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THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 



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THE 

OUTCAST WARRIOR 


A Tale of the Red Frontier 

BY 


KIRK MUNROE 

Author of 

“For the Mikado,” “The Blue Dragon,” “Rick DalCj^ 
“At War with Pontiac,” “The Mates Series,'* 
“The Flamingo Feather,” etc., etc. 



ILLUSTRATED 


New York 

D. Appleton and Company 

1905 


fri^sTIsRARy ; 

i OONGRFiiw 

* Two Osutes ;-.6ce(v«^ r 

I OCl e 1905 

>, ^ r»9pynflrftt Fjrtn 

i b^f Oi 2, 

CX. ^Qi ' 

/ A 7 3 4 , 

COfY Aa 




' ^ o 


/ 

Copyright, 1905, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


Published October, 1905. 


CONTEKTS 


CHAPTER 

I.— The Disappearance .... 

f 

• 

• 

PACE 

1 

IL — A Council on the “Texas” Deck . 

• 

• 

• 

12 

III. — At “Pat Cow” Wood-Yard 

• 

t 

• 

21 

IV. — With the Aricarees 

• 

• 

• 

30 

V. — Story of the White Buffalo . 

• 

• 

• 

89 

VI. — Off for the Land of Great Smoke 

• 

• 

• 

49 

VII. — In the Place of Bones 


• 

• 

68 

VIII. — Don Felix Gives Warning 

• 

• 

• 

66 

IX. — Scalped and Left for Dead . 

• 

• 

• 

76 

X. — An Overlooked Friend . 

• 

• 

• 

85 

XL — Building a House without Tools , 

• 

• 

• 

93 

XII. — A Cheerful, Red-Headed Fighter . 

• 

• 

r 

102 

XIII.— The Guest of Sod Castle 

t 

• 

• 

ill 

XIV. — Blue McHarty’s Secret . 

• 

• 


121 

XV. — Stealing Horses from Horse Thieves 

• 

• 

• 

131 

XVI. — The Rocking Rock of the Dog Dens 

• 

• 

• 

140 

XVII. — Storm-Swept and Hopeless 

> 

• 

• 

• 

149 

XVIII.— The War Cry of Wicasta 

• 

• 

m 

158 

XIX. — Zeph’ine and Family .... 

• 

• 

• 

167 

XX.— A Glimpse of Blue McHarty . 

• 

• 

• 

177 

XXL— In the Shadows of the Painted Woods 

• 

• 

186 

XXIL— “Wiped Out” 




194 

XXIIL—Koda “Goes Away” . 

• 

• 

• 

203 


V 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTKR PAGE 

XXIV. -The Ways OF A Maid . . o . . . 213 

XXV. — A Deserter of Several Names .... 222 

XXVI.— Mollie Kenton’s Boy 232 

XXVIl. — Simon Goes to the Wars 242 

XXVIII.— Kenton Wester’s Fortune 251 

XXIX. — Hanana Fires the Mine 260 

XXX.— A Friend from a Snow Bank 269 


LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS 


“ There big boat ”, , . . 

“You coward I” stormed Wicasta 


PACING 

PAGE 

Frontispiece 

. 36 

. 164 


Leading them on a furious charge . , . . 

Fighting desperately with pistols and clubbed rifles 


. 196 



THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


A TALE OF THE RED FRONTIER 


CHAPTER I 

THE DISAPPEARANCE 

Both Arnold Knighton and Everett Wester were 
products of Kew England, but the former was a son of 
poverty, having been born and brought up on a small 
farm, the sole worldly possession of his father, while 
Wester was the only child of a wealthy manufacturer. 
One had worked hard, early and late, ever since he could 
remember, and had dearly earned every success of his 
life; to the other everything had come without effort. 
Arnold, from the first, had studied with a dogged de- 
termination to win power through knowledge. As he 
had earned other things, so he earned an education, as 
any boy can who has the moral courage to do, and to 
do cheerfully, whatever comes to his hand. At length 
the country lad reached Cambridge, nearly penniless, 
shy, without friends, clad in a suit that, shabby and 
ill-fitting, still was his best, but so well equipped men- 
l 


2 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


tally that he passed every entrance examination for 
Harvard easily and with a high rating. 

It was here that he first met Everett Wester, who 
had been laboriously dragged thus far up the hill of 
knowledge by a host of most expensive tutors. His only 
reason for wanting to go through college was that among 
his set of fellows it was the proper thing to do. But 
there are certain desirable things in life that even the 
wealthiest of young men cannot acquire without personal 
effort, and one of them is the ability to pass entrance 
examinations. As Everett had not seen fit to exert this 
necessary effort, his failure to pass was as complete 
as it well could be. In fact, while Arnold Knighton’s 
name headed the list of successful candidates, Everett 
Wester’s was at the very foot of the failures. 

Eor the first time in his life the millionaire’s son 
had failed to obtain something he wanted, and also for 
the first time his ambition was aroused. Promptly cut- 
ting loose from the expensive tutors whose best efforts 
had not succeeded in persuading him of the necessity 
for study, and upon whom he now laid all the blame of 
his humiliation, he sought out the shabby youth at 
whose coat he had sneered and promptly began to talk 
business. 

Your name is Knighton ? ” he said interrogatively. 

^^Yes,” replied Arnold, regarding his faultlessly 
attired, easy-mannered visitor with curiosity, not un- 
mixed with envy. 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 3 

And you have just passed the entrance exams with 
flying colors ? ’’ 

I believe I have passed them.’’ 

Well, I haven’t; hut what I have done is to break 
the record of failures. !Now, I take it from your gen- 
eral appearance that you don’t have money to burn, nor 
any too much to spend even on necessities.” 

i^o,” admitted Arnold, flushing vividly. “ I have 
only what I can earn, and thus far that has been very 
little.” 

“ Good ! ” exclaimed the other. That is just what 
I hoped ; for, if you were well fixed you wouldn’t listen 
to the proposition I am about to make, and which I 
trust you will accept. I suppose you expect to work 
your way through college ? ” 

Yes ; that is the only way I can hope to get 
through.” 

Then I want to engage your services, at your own 
price, for the next four years — ^that is, if you can, and 
will, fit me to pass the September exams, and so enter 
college with the class to which you will belong.” 

Again Arnold’s features were flushed, but this time 
with the joy-light of hope, as he answered : 

Do you really mean that you want me to tutor 
you and are willing to pay for it ? ” 

Of course I do,” laughed Everett, and a precious 
stiff job you’ll find you’ve undertaken, too. I’ve already 
had the best coaches known to the trade, and in my 


4 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


recent failure you behold the result of their utmost 
efforts. But if you are willing to engage with the for- 
lorn hope, just name your price and come along down 
to Bar Harbor, where my people are to spend the 
summer.” 

I don’t know what price to name,” replied Arnold ; 
nor do I think I care to go with you to Bar Harbor.” 

Why not?” 

Because I am not accustomed to Bar Harbor 
society. I have not the proper clothing to wear, nor 
the means to keep up such an appearance as would be 
expected. Also, from what I have heard, I believe Bar 
Harbor to be one of the very worst places in which to 
attempt summer studying. Another reason why I can’t 
go is that I have promised to help my father with his 
farm this summer.” 

Then you can’t tutor me ? ” 

Yes, I can, if you will spend the summer at my 
home.” 

^^Do you think you could fit me to pass the fall 
exams ? ” 

I know I can, if you will study.” 

How about terms ? ” 

If you will pay my mother ten dollars per week ; 
that will cover all your expenses, including tutoring.” 

‘‘ Such a price is ridiculous ! Why, my father has 
been paying tutors as high as ten dollars per day.” 

It is all I can take, unless you pass the fall exam- 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


5 


inations. If you do, and your father chooses to double 
the sum named, I will accept the extra money. 

How about helping me through college after I 
get in ? ” 

When you have got in will be time enough to dis- 
cuss that question.’’ 

So it was settled ; and though Everett was reluctant 
to relinquish the summer pleasures of Bar Harbor, he 
was sufficiently anxious to enter college to make the 
sacrifice and go to the poor little inland farm with the 
tutor upon whom he had pinned his faith. 

Hor did Arnold have an entirely pleasant summer. 
Hever in his life had he worked so hard nor under such 
discouraging conditions. Nevertheless, he succeeded to 
such an extent that in September Everett Wester suc- 
cessfully passed the entrance examinations and became 
a duly accredited member of the class to which he had 
aspired. To be sure, he got in only by the skin of his 
teeth,” as he himself expressed it, hut that he actually 
had entered college gave cause for such gratitude to the 
tutor through whom the great feat had been accom- 
plished that Mr. Wester attempted to present Arnold 
with a check for one thousand dollars. But the latter 
proudly refused it, declaring that, having named his 
price, he could take nothing more. Then Mr. Wester 
made him a wonderful offer that should cover the next 
four years, and Arnold gratefully accepted it. By its 
terms he was to room with Everett and have all his 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


college expenses paid. In addition he was to receive 
one thousand dollars a year until graduation, provided 
he continued to aid his roommate in his studies to such 
purpose that the latter also should graduate at the end 
of four years. If that happy event took place, Arnold 
was to receive an extra bonus of one thousand dollars 
on the day that Everett was handed his diploma. 

Thus it happened that studious, hard-working Ar- 
nold Knighton dragged easy-going, pleasure-loving Ev- 
erett Wester through college. Though the relative posi- 
tions with which they had started, at the head and foot 
of their class, were maintained to the end, Everett 
received his diploma, and thereafter was entitled to all 
the respectful consideration due a university man. 

With this end accomplished, he seemed to have real- 
ized the sole ambition of his life, and thereafter he 
devoted his time to the pursuit of idle pleasure. He 
soon became known as the leader of a fast set of wealthy 
young fellows, and began to show traces of the heavy 
dissipation into which he had plunged. Nominally he 
had entered his father’s business, but in reality he was 
as strange to its offices as was the most casual visitor. 
Having cast off the restraining influence of his college 
roommate immediately upon graduation. Everett so 
shunned Arnold’s company that in two years the young 
men did not meet half a dozen times. During this 
period Knighton studied medicine and took up chem- 
istry as a recreation. Occasionally he dined with the 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


7 


Westers, and at one of these dinners he met Mollie 
Kenton, a girl from Kentucky, with whom he fell des- 
perately in love before discovering that she was already 
engaged to marry his former roommate. 

After that he carefully avoided meeting her, and 
when Everett informed him that he had selected him 
to he best man at the wedding, Arnold declined the un- 
welcome honor so curtly that the other regarded him 
with grieved amazement. In the end, as Arnold could 
advance no satisfactory reason for his refusal without 
revealing the true state of his feelings, he reluctantly 
acceded to Everett’s request. Then ensued the most 
unhappy month of his life, and, as the dreaded day 
drew near, his mental distress began to affect his health. 

In the meantime Everett, having discovered that his 
friend’s knowledge of medical chemistry enabled him to 
compound the most marvelous sedatives and tonics for 
counteracting the effects of the dissipations into which 
he was plunging more heavily than ever, with the prom- 
ise of swearing off ” on his wedding day, had become a 
frequent visitor to Arnold’s rooms. Nominally he was 
there to discuss details of the approaching event, hut 
always he begged for a nerve-steadying pill or powder. 

The wedding was to take place in Boston at the 
house of Miss Kenton’s aunt, and the bride’s parents 
arrived from the West only on the previous day. The 
ceremony was to he performed very early in the morn- 
ing, as the young couple were to leave for a European 


8 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


trip on a steamer that sailed an hour before noon. On 
the night before the great event Everett Wester spread 
for his bachelor friends a feast of such sumptuous ex- 
travagance as to form a nine days’ topic for conversa- 
tion in club and drawing-room. To it Arnold Knighton 
had, of course, been bidden, hut at the last moment he 
sent a note of regret at being unable to attend on 
account of an indisposition. Then he shut himself in 
his rooms with only his own unhappy thoughts for 
company. 

Kever had he felt so lonely, so wretched, so devoid 
of ambition or hope for the future. Both his parents 
having died while he was in college, he was left without 
a near relative in the world. Kow, the one person to 
whom he could joyfully devote his life was to pass for- 
ever beyond his reach, while he had promised to stand 
calmly by and see her given to another. Could he do 
it ? Would his strength hold out against the terrible 
strain? So doubtful was he that he even contem- 
plated flight rather than undergo the ordeal, and had 
that very day withdrawn from its depository his slender 
stock of money. Then he had dismissed the idea of 
running away as too cowardly for consideration. Kow, 
however, in the loneliness of the night it constantly re- 
curred to him, and through long hours he fought it as 
one fights for life itself. 

It was nearly morning before he conquered his 
temptation and fiung himself on a lounge for an hour 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


9 


or two of sleep. From a troubled dream be was 
aroused by the rattle of a cab that seemed to stop be- 
neath his windows. Then unsteady footsteps sounded 
on the stair and approached his doorway. In another 
minute Everett Wester, breaking from the grasp of a 
cabby ’’ who had assisted him thus far, plunged head- 
long into the room, babbling with drunken incoherence. 

Beg pardon, sir,’’ said the cabby, touching his hat 
to Arnold, but this was the only address he give me, 
and I thought it was his own place.” 

It’s all right,” replied Arnold, commanding him- 
self to calmness by a mighty effort This is where he 
belongs, and you may go.” 

But he ain’t paid his fare, sir.” 

With this Everett, who had succeeded in gaining a 
sitting posture on the bed, flung a well-filled poeketbook 
at the cabby’s feet and thickly bade him go away. 

Arnold picked up the wallet and, after paying the 
cabman, handed it back to its owner, who promptly 
flung it out of an open window. Then he burst into a 
fit of maudlin weeping, accompanied by bitter denun- 
ciations of his friends. 

To quiet him Arnold persuaded the drunken man to 
swallow a powerful sedative, and a moment later had 
the satisfaction of seeing him fall back on the bed in a 
heavy sleep. Then for an hour he sat gazing at the 
flushed, drink-sodden face and listening to the sterto- 
rous breathing. 

2 


10 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


This was the man to whom the one woman in all 
the world was to be given for life within a few hours ! 
Could he stand by and witness the sacrifice? ISTo, he 
could not, nor would he make the attempt. 

With this decision reached, Arnold rose, hastily 
packed a traveling-bag, and scribbled a note to the effect 
that he had gone out and would not return until late 
that evening. This he pinned outside his door, which 
he locked, putting the key in his own pocket. Then he 
left the building just as the first gray of day was mani- 
fest in the eastern sky. 

A few hours later a would-be bride and a group of 

expectant wedding guests wondered, with ever-growing 

anxiety, at the absence of the prospective bridegroom. 

He was not at his home, nor had he been there since 
\ ^ 

the cry before. Also the one who was to have stood 
with him as best man had failed to appear. A mes- 
senger sent to the rooms of the latter brought back a 
note in Arnold Knighton’s well-known handwriting, 
and dated that very day, that had been found pinned to 
his door. 

The hour set for the wedding was long past, the 
steamer on which the bridal couple were to have jour- 
neyed had sailed without them, the whispering guests 
were dispersed, and the bride-elect, mortified beyond 
words, having laid aside her festal robes, was sitting by 
a window listening dumbly to the entreaties of her 
parents that she should at once accompany them to their 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


11 


western home. Of a sudden her attention was attracted 
to a figure in a passing cah. It was that of a man, hat- 
less and in disheveled evening dress, who lifted a hag- 
gard face as he was hurried by. For an instant their 
eyes met ; then he was gone. 

Very well, mother, I will go with you,^’ said the 
girl, turning from the window, and the next train for 
the West bore her away, never to return. 


CHAPTER II 


>' 


A COUNCIL ON THE TEXAS DECK 

A SMALL, stern-wheeled steamer labored heavily 
against the turbid current of the upper Missouri while 
three men earnestly conversed in the pilot-house on her 
“ Texas ” deck. This boat was a very different affair 
from the great, gaudily frescoed passenger and mail 
craft of the Mississippi, one of which could carry a 
warehouse full of freight at a load and make her two 
hundred miles a day upstream against the stiff current. 
So far different was she that she had no passenger accom- 
modations to speak of, was intrusted with no mails, and 
carried no freight, that is, not on consignment, though 
she was laden with a rather valuable cargo, all in barrels 
and cases. Her captain, who also was her owner, called 
himself a fur trader,” and so he was, only he was 
a low-down, sneaking sort of a trader, who avoided the 
Government posts and agencies about which most of the 
Indian trade of the great Northwest centered, and only 
visited outlying camps of both white men and Indians, 
wood-yards, and other secluded places where no official 
eye might note his transactions. He was a whisky 
trader, and dealt in the one commodity that the Govern- 
ment ordered should not be sold to its red-skinned wards. 


12 


A COUNCIL ON THE “TEXAS” DECK 


13 


The law was all right, but in those days of the late 
fifties, just before the Civil War, it was almost a dead 
letter on the upper Missouri, and both white men and 
red men did pretty much as they pleased. Besides, who 
cared to attempt the enforcing of a law for the benefit 
of Indians, when three-fourths of the people of the 
United States regarded them as noxious pests, fit only 
to be exterminated as quickly as possible? So the lit- 
tle old Aztec paddled up the great river from St. Louis 
with the opening of each spring, laden with liquid death, 
and every autumn she slipped merrily down with the 
swift current, bearing a rich cargo of furs, for which 
she had exchanged only the cheapest and deadliest of 
poisons. 

While thus making easy money at his scoundrel 
trade. Captain Bat Cranshaw was not averse to increas- 
ing his gains by taking on a passenger now and then 
at remunerative rates, though, as he had no license for 
carrying passengers, such travelers were always obliged 
to appear as belonging to his crew. Of course, Indians 
didn’t count, for in the eyes of the white man’s law 
their lives were worthless. So, whenever any of them 
expressed a wish to travel on the Aztec for greater or 
less distances. Captain Bat always accommodated them, 
charging exorbitant rates, to be sure, but obligingly 
taking it out in trade.” 

On this present trip the whisky boat was honored 
with but one white passenger, who was rated as ship’s 


14 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


surgeon, and addressed only as Doc.” He was a 
young fellow of pleasing appearance, tall, large-framed, 
smooth-faced, but looking little more than a hoy, and 
absolutely uncommunicative regarding himself or his 
own affairs. He had come on hoard at St. Louis an 
hour before the steamer sailed, seeking the cheapest, 
speediest, and least conspicuous way of traveling to the 
very headwaters of the Missouri, and had expressed 
himself as quite willing to put up with such inferior 
accommodations as the Aztec offered. 

The only other passenger on this trip was a young 
Aricaree Indian named Peninah, son of Chief Two 
Stars, who, in company with some traders, had gone 
down to St. Louis late in the previous autumn to acquire 
a knowledge of the white man’s language and mode of 
living that should fit him for the honorable position of 
tribal interpreter. How he was on his way home, and 
there never was a schoolboy homeward bound after his 
first long absence more joyful at the sight of familiar 
objects or more impatient to reach his journey’s end 
than was this young savage at the first faint glimpses 
of certain distant buttes that marked the land of his 
people. 

Wildly excited, he dashed into the stuffy little cabin 
where lay his fellow-passenger, fever-stricken and rest- 
lessly tossing in a dirty bunk, to tell him the great 
news; 

Me see ’Ricaree land ! ” he cried. “ How two more 


A COUNCIL ON THE “TEXAS” DECK 


15 


sun and me find um my ladder, my modder, my brud- 
der, my sister, my peep ! ” 

Although their acquaintance was short, these two, 
thrown constantly together since leaving St. Louis, 
already were upon the verge of a friendship. The doctor 
was deeply impressed with the strength of character, hon- 
esty, and outspoken manliness of this the first Indian 
whom he ever had known, while the liking of the other 
for him was based upon gratitude. A few minutes be- 
fore their steamer had left St. Louis the young Indian, 
running across the levee, and in danger of missing con- 
nection, had collided with a negro roustabout wheeling 
a truck and been knocked to the cobbles, where for a 
minute he lay stunned and bleeding from an ugly cut on 
the head. Most of the spectators, white as well as black, 
only laughed to see an Injun ” in such a plight; but 
one, who had witnessed the incident from the deck of 
the Aztec, sprang ashore, picked up the unfortunate lad, 
and bore him to the boat, where he cared for him with 
skilled tenderness. But for him the other would have 
been left behind, and but for his kindly care the wound 
might have proved serious. As it was, the young Aric- 
aree recovered so rapidly that within three days he 
was nearly as well as ever, and exceedingly grateful to 
his new acquaintance. 

At first they talked much together, always of Peni- 
nah^s land and people; but after a few days the white 
man grew moody and silent, his eyes shone with a 


16 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


feverish light; and he lost interest in his surroundings. 
Then he took to his bunk, and despite the remedies that 
he prescribed for and administered to himself, he stead- 
ily grew worse, until it was evident that he was a very 
sick man in the grasp of a virulent fever. And that is 
what Captain Bat Granshaw, his pilot, and the Aztec’s 
mate were discussing on the Texas ” deck with the 
opening of this chapter. 

Tell yer,” said the captain decisively, the Doc’s 
got smallpox, an’ ’tain’t nothing else. I know the signs. 
Seen enough of ’em, and orter. There’s a-plenty of it 
in St. Louy, too.” 

But he hadn’t been in town no time at all,” ob- 
jected the mate. Landed from the Magnolia day 
before we pulled out, and come on board fust thing in 
the morning. Besides, if it’s what you say, it orter have 
showed up ’fore now.” 

Not of needcessity,” observed the pilot. “ I’ve 
knowed a man to be two weeks from the place where he 
ketched smallpox befur ever it give a sign on him. 
Then it broke out wust kind, and killed him, too. I 
’gree with Cap’n Bat that we oughter git shet of him 
’fore it reaches ketching pint, else all of us’ll be gone 
coons in no time. I say put him ashore, bag, baggage, 
and bedding, at the fust Injun village we come to. 
We’re due to strike a ’Ricaree camp long ’bout to- 
morrer evening.” 

That won’t do,” objected the captain. In the 


A COUNCIL ON THE “TEXAS" DECK 


17 


fust place the ’Eees wouldn’t have him, seeing as how 
they’ve been mighty nigh wiped out by smallpox already, 
and are more sheered of it than they be of the hull 
Sioux nation. Also, it would hurt our trade to have a 
lot of ’em killed off. Besides, if we’re going to git shet 
of him, the quicker we do it the better. What’s the next 
wood-yard, Sam ? ” 

Big Cotton, t’other side the ’Bicaree town,” an- 
swered the pilot. i^o, ’tain’t, nuther,” he added. I 
remember now that Slim Isaacs told me just as we was 
starting that the Durfee people were making one at the 
mouth of Bat Cow Creek, and there’s the pint now. 
We’ll be to it inside of an hour.” 

Inside of an hour ” night had set in ; but work- 
ing slowly along the bank and avoiding trouble as 
though by instinct, the Aztec finally gained the new 
wood-yard landing in safety, and was made fast to a 
big cottonwood tree growing at the water’s edge. She 
showed no lights, nor was there any of the noisy tur- 
moil that usually attends the landing of a river steamer. 
Of course, there were many unavoidable sounds, but 
they were subdued as much as possible, and even the 
mate, who on such occasions was wont to direct his sable 
rousters ” with volleys of loud-voiced profanity, now 
only swore in hoarse whispers. At length the gang- 
plank was launched, and immediately the sturdy ne- 
groes bore over it a burden which they deposited on the 
ground the moment they reached shore, and from which 


18 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


they retreated with all speed. A number of articles 
were flung or carried to the bank even while the gang- 
plank was being hoisted on board, and, without having 
stopped more than two minutes in all, the Aztec again 
was under way and swinging out into the muddy stream. 

Short as was the stop, it allowed time for a sharp 
controversy between Captain Bat and his Indian pas- 
senger. 

What thing you do with Doc ? ” demanded the 
latter as he realized that his friend was being carried 
ashore. 

Oh, that’s all right,” replied the captain care- 
lessly. He’s too sick to travel, and he asked to be set 
ashore where he can be taken care of.” 

But in this place are no mans. He will maybe 
make die.” 

Hot on yer life ! the choppers’ll take care of that. 
He’s got plunder enough to pay ’em well.” 

Ho, no ! If him go, then must I go, too. Him 
good man to me, now me go with him.” 

Thus saying, the Indian lad started up the gang- 
plank, but the captain, seizing him by an arm, jerked 
him violently back, exclaiming: 

Stay where you are, you young fool ! ’Tain’t none 
of your business noways ; but I don’t mind telling you 
the man’s got smallpox, and ’twould be as much as your 
life’s worth to tech him. Hot that your life’s worth 
more’n that of any other red nigger, but I’ve got to 


A COUNCIL ON THE “TEXAS’’ DECK 


19 


deliver you safe and sound at the ’Kee camp to get my 
passage money. So stand back, and keep back, afore 
I^m ’bleeged to knock yer down and tie yer.’’ 

All right. Cap. Me no like um smallpox,” an- 
swered the lad, so meekly as instantly to disarm sus- 
picion. In another moment he was running noiselessly 
and unmolested toward the after end of the boat, from 
which, as she began to draw away from the bank, he 
quietly slipped into the black water and was swept 
astern by the swift current. 

His desertion was not discovered until daylight of 
the following morning, when it threw Captain Bat Cran- 
shaw into a towering rage. The infernal coyote ! ” 
he cried. I’ll get even with him yet, see if I don’t. 
The idea of a measly, low-down Injun playing such a 
trick on me ! How what’ll I do ? ” 

The position was a trying one. Peninah was ex- 
pected on the Aztec whenever that boat of ill-repute 
should appear, and Chief Two Stars would be anxiously 
awaiting his son’s coming. If she should stop at the 
village and her captain should state that the lad had 
not traveled up the river with him, not only would he 
fail to collect the money owing for Peninah’ s passage, 
but the lie would certainly be detected sooner or later. 
If he told the truth, then would it be generally known 
that he had put a white man ashore to die, and that 
act of inhumanity would involve him in no end of 
trouble. Peninah had left behind him a fine rifle and 


20 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


a number of other things that he had purchased in St. 
Louis. Also among his belongings was found a rifle 
recognized as the doctor’s which the lad had been clean- 
ing the day before. As these effects would much more 
than pay for the young Indian’s passage it would be a 
great pity to give them up. So Captain Bat finally 
decided to slip past the Aricaree village under cover of 
darkness without stopping to make report of any kind 
or even to trade. 

Thus it happened that for many days Chief Two 
Stars watched anxiously for the beloved son who came 
not, while a hundred miles away that same son, bravely 
fighting against disease and starvation, waited, with 
heavy heart, for the aid that he so confidently expected 
his father to send him as soon as he learned from the 
Aztec why his boy had not returned home on the trading 
steamer. 


CHAPTER III 


AT FAT COW ” WOOD-YARD 

As the wood-yard at which the Aztec^s passengers 
had been left had been located in Sioux territory with- 
out permission from the red lords of that region, they 
had raided it soon after its establishment, killed, cap- 
tured, or driven away its occupants, set its single stock- 
aded building on fire, and departed, well satisfied with 
their exploit. Thus all Captain Bat^s efforts to make a 
landing without discovery went for nothing, since there 
was no one on hand to discover him. He had told the 
sick man that he was going to land him at an army post 
where there was a surgeon and a hospital in which he 
could be cared for properly, thus gaining the latter’s 
ready agreement to the plan. 

Weakened by fever, and in the excitement of land- 
ing, the sick man paid no attention to his surroundings 
until he had been left alone for some minutes. Then he 
wondered at the absolute silence about him and why 
someone did not come to his aid. He tried to raise 
himself in order to look about, but could not. He could 
only lie, with wide-open eyes, staring into the night and 
listening with strained ears for some reassuring sound. 
He heard the ever-receding cough of the Aztec’s high- 
21 


22 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


pressure exhaust as she pursued her way upstream, and 
the lapping waves of the river as it swirled and eddied 
against the bank. From far away he heard the weird 
harking and long-drawn howl of a coyote, hut of sounds 
indicating human proximity there was none. 

A wave of terror flooded over him, and he strove to 
shout for the assistance that he still believed must be 
near at hand, hut his utmost efforts produced sounds 
only little louder than a whisper. All at once the omi- 
nous word “ smallpox ” recurred to him, and he remem- 
bered having heard it muttered by one of those who 
had home him ashore. 'Now all was clear. It was 
believed on the steamer that he had fallen beneath the 
dreaded scourge, and her people had left him in this 
place to die alone and uncared for. In his despair he 
raved against the fate thus allotted him, and denounced 
with bitter words the cowards of his own race who had 
consigned him to it. Thus exhausting his little strength 
he finally lay silent in a sort of stupor, from which he 
was roused by a light footfall close at hand. Then came 
a low-voiced call that at first he would not answer ; but 
at its repetition he essayed a faint hello. In an- 
other moment a human figure, dripping wet, knelt be- 
side him. 

Who is it, and what do you want ? he whispered 
as a gentle hand passed over his face. 

Peninah,’^ was the answer. “ An’ me very ’fraid 
me no find um white man.” 


AT “FAT COW” WOOD-YARD 


23 


Peninah ? And did they lea,ve yon, too ? But 
why ? You are not 

ISTo. Me plenty well. You fix um good.’^ 

Then why did they leave you behind ? ’’ 

N’o leave. Cap’n say no stop. Try take um up 
river. Me jump in water. Swim plenty. Come for 
find friend. ]^ow find um. Stay. Pix um good.” 

But, Peninah, didnT they tell you I had small- 
pox ? ” 

Yaas. Tell um plenty. Me no care. Big Medi- 
cine my good friend. One time me sick, he fix um. 
Bimehy him sick. Me try fix him alle same. ^Tow me 
go littly way. Maybe find um lodge. Maybe find um 
white man. Bring um.” 

With this the lad was gone, while the sick man lay 
motionless, half-dozing, half-conscious of a renewed 
hope inspired by the coming of the single-hearted young 
Indian. 

When Peninah returned, the other asked : 

Did you find the fort ? Is the surgeon coming ? ” 
Ho. Ho fort. Ho medicine man. This what you 
call chop-chop place. Tree chop — fire canoe burn um. 
How man all gone. Ho fire. Ho eat. Ho notting. 
White man lodge, me found um. Injun been, make 
burn um. How we go. Maybe you walk littly, eh ? ” 

With this the lad lifted the sick man to his feet, 
and with a supreme effort the latter tottered a few 
steps, but the exertion was too great. His head swam. 


24 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


his eyes closed, and, overcome by weakness, he sank 
unconscious in his companion’s arms. 

When next the patient realized that he still was in 
the world of men he found himself lying in a rude 
bunk, apparently in a house, and with eyes fixed upon 
a figure that knelt beside a fire. Also there was a 
pleasant smell of cooking in the air, and he knew that 
he was hungry. He made a slight sound, and the 
figure, springing to his bedside, bent eagerly over 
him. 

It was Peninah, and his face, worn thin by weary 
vigils and overwork, glowed with joy. His friend had 
come back to him from the world of spirits, and now 
perhaps he would live. He surely would if only he 
could partake of food. Anxiously the lad held to his 
patient’s lips a queer sort of a cup made from the tip 
of a buffalo horn, scraped thin, and filled with broth. 
The sick man took a sip, a swallow, and then another. 
Hor did he stop until he had drained the little cup of 
its contents, perhaps a gill in all. Then his eyes begged 
for more; hut Peninah, proudly happy and willing to 
give him anything on earth, sternly shook his head. 

Ho. Ho more eat,” he said. How time for 
sleep plenty. Bimehy eat, plenty. Git strong quick. 
Good. Eh?” 

Kecognizing the voice of authority that might not 
be resisted, the patient submitted, closed his eyes and 
slept, while with beaming face the other watched him. 


AT »FAT COW” WOOD-YARD 


25 


During ten days had he fought, single-handed, 
against fearful odds for this result. The house in 
which they were was the wood-choppers’ shack, stripped 
of everything and partially burned by the Sioux raiders. 
To it, in that first night of their desertion, he had 
brought the sick man on his hack. In one of his friend’s 
pockets he had found a box of matches, and so was able 
to make a fire, hut not a scrap of food remained in the 
shack, and for twenty-four hours he had nothing to 
eat. Then he killed a snake, which, roasted on a bed 
of coals, proved most palatable, and a little later he 
trapped a prairie dog. The very next day brought his 
greatest good fortune — a drowned buffalo came floating 
down the river, and by almost superhuman exertion he 
got the carcass to land. His unconscious friend fur- 
nished a hunting-knife, and for the following week 
Peninah toiled over his prize. He skinned and butch- 
ered it, and by the end of the first day had all the meat 
removed to the safety of the shack. Thereafter he de- 
voted his time to cutting it into thin strips which he 
smoked on a scaffolding erected over a slow fire, and to 
dressing the hide. While the latter still was green he 
stretched it tightly over a round, bowl-shaped frame of 
split willow poles and interwoven twigs, to which he 
fastened it with cords of twisted sinew. Thus did he 
make one of the famous bull-boats of the plains Indians, 
similar in shape and construction to the skin coracles 
of the ancient Britons. It was a very ticklish craft, to 


26 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


be sure, and a very small one, but it was large enough 
to bear up a single person, and thus was amply big for 
the purpose Peninah had in view. 

The abandoned wood-yard where they had been left 
was on the eastern side of the river, while the land of 
the Aricarees bordered the river on the west, and Two 
Stars’ village lay a hundred miles or so farther up- 
stream. As much of this distance was occupied by a 
great bend of the river, Peninah’s plan was to ferry his 
friend, together with his belongings, to the opposite side 
and there leave him, while he himself made a bee-line 
across country on foot for the assistance that he cer- 
tainly could secure from his own people. 

Always dreading a return of the Sioux marauders, 
the young Aricaree not only was ceaselessly watchful, 
but most anxious to depart at the earliest possible mo- 
ment. Thus, with the breaking of his patient’s fever, 
which proved not to be smallpox after all, and at the 
first sign of his restoration to strength, Peninah one 
day picked him up and easily bore him to the river’s 
edge, where he gently placed him in the little bull-boat 
tethered to a tree. The cockleshell also was able to 
sustain a portion of the doctor’s baggage, and when it 
thus was laden, Peninah swam the river, towing it be- 
hind him. Of course, the current swept them far down- 
stream before they reached the opposite side, but this 
was a minor evil to be overcome by wading and towing 
the ungainly little craft up, along shore, until a point 


AT ^‘FAT COW'! WOOD-YARD 


27 


was gained considerably higher than that from which 
they had started. 

Here was a narrow, hut deep, water-worn crevasse 
in the hank partially concealed from the river by a 
growth of hushes, and in this place Peninah left his 
passenger while he returned to the other side for the 
remainder of the baggage and their precious store of 
jerked meat. After these things had been brought over, 
the rest of the day was spent in stripping the bull-boat 
of its skin, which was dried and softened to serve as 
a bed for the white man, in collecting driftwood for a 
fire, and in preparing a supply of broth for the con- 
valescent. That night the young Aricaree bade his 
friend farewell, and, promising to return again on the 
third day, set forth on his search for the village of his 
own people. He took nothing with him save a strip of 
jerked meat, even the sole weapon owned between 
them, the precious hunting-knife, being left with the 
invalid. 

The white man thus, for the first time in his life, 
left alone in a wilderness peopled only by wild beasts 
and wilder men, spent the succeeding day in closest hid- 
ing, devoting such time as could not be passed in sleep- 
ing or eating to an overhauling of his personal effects. 
Knowing nothing of the conditions he was to encounter, 
he had brought with him an outfit of most unusual and 
miscellaneous character. Medicines, for instance, in 
quantity, surgical instruments, and certain appliances 


28 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


rarely seen outside a chemical laboratory. While look- 
ing over these things, a sealed bottle containing a white 
powder came under his observation. 

How very useful strychnine will prove out here,” 
he remarked scornfully. Good thing to commit sui- 
cide with, of course, but I can’t imagine any other use 
for it. Might as well weed it out and leave it behind, 
along with a lot of other trash.” Thus thinking, he 
put the bottle to one side. 

He had heard the howling of wolves the night be- 
fore, and on the second night it was renewed at an early 
hour. Also, it sounded very close at hand, and rose in 
such volume as to indicate the presence of numbers of 
the savage brutes. The lonely man was cooking, or 
rather scorching, some of his jerked beef in an effort 
to render it more palatable, and the odor of burning 
meat, diffused far and wide, had proved a most potent 
attraction to the gaunt freebooters who howled about 
his little camp. 

Every now and then he caught glimpses of them 
leaping athwart the gleams of firelight that streamed 
from the crevasse. Einally one, bolder than the rest, 
made a snatch at the bundle of meat lying within reach 
of the man’s hand. The boldness of this assault filled 
him with horror. Until that moment he had not realized 
his own danger. How it was only too evident. He was 
helpless and almost defenseless. Was he, though ? Per- 
haps not so defenseless as he appeared. If they wanted 


AT “FAT COW” WOOD-YARD 


29 


meat badly enough to steal it, they should have it, and 
he would spice it for them into the bargain. 

Two days later, as a band of Aricaree horsemen, 
guided by Peninah, approached the river at this point, 
they were rendered somewhat anxious by a cloud of 
buzzards that sailed and circled above the very place 
for which they were headed. A little later they found, 
on a narrow beach at the foot of the bluffs, the remains 
of a dozen great, gaunt buffalo wolves, but on no one 
of them was there mark of arrow, bullet, spear, or knife. 

ITo, I simply gave them a dose of poison,” ex- 
plained Peninah’s friend. 

Him make big medicine and kill them plenty,” 
translated the lad. 

Wagh ! Him big medicine man ! Him heap wolf- 
killer I ” exclaimed the wondering Aricarees, and thus 
was the stranger named Wicasta,” the Wolf-Killer, a 
name destined in the near future to become famous over 
a vast region and to many tribes. 


CHAPTEE IV 


WITH THE AEIOAKEES 

Something more than two years had passed since 
the Wolf-Killer gained his name, and the decline of a 
day in early summer found him sitting just outside a 
lodge, larger and cleaner than any of its neighbors, gaz- 
ing thoughtfully over a scene that possessed many ele- 
ments of attraction. The Aricaree village, to which he 
had been warmly welcomed on account of his friend- 
ship with the son of its greatest chieftain, contained a 
population of about twenty-five hundred souls, and con- 
sequently was made up of a great number of lodges, 
located with some regard to regularity near the mouth 
of a stream fiowing into the Missouri. In the heart of 
the village was a space reserved for the great Council 
Lodge, a structure of stout posts formed of whole tree- 
trunks, poles, osier walls hung with skins, and an 
earthen roof having a central orifice for the escape of 
smoke. The square in which stood this greatest lodge 
was inclosed by a stockade, slight in structure, but 
affording ample protection against an enemy armed 
only with bows and arrows. 

The bench, or river-bottom, on which the village was 
planted sloped back, with a gentle rise, for about a mile 
30 


WITH THE ARICAREES 


31 


to the foot of steep bluffs, and afforded capital pasture- 
land for the great herd of horses forming the principal 
wealth of the Aricarees. These were at all times 
watched by mounted guards; while on the crest of the 
bluffs beyond were stationed warrior outposts, day and 
night, always keenly alert for signs of danger, and fre- 
quently relieved. 

From these outposts, who, though distant, were 
sharply outlined against the sky and plainly visible to 
the village, came a never-ending succession of signals 
made by means of fires, smoke, the waving of blankets, 
the flashing of mirrors, or by the riding of ponies to 
and fro. By these means was the most important news 
from the vast prairies, sweeping away to the westward, 
transmitted as though by telegraph. Thus was an- 
nounced the coming ,of friends or the approach of a 
foe, the home-returning of a war-party, and whether it 
had won a victory or suffered defeat; the movements 
of the buffalo herds or of other game ; a gathering tem- 
pest, a distant smoke on the Missouri marking the in- 
frequent advent of a steamer ; the passing batteau of a 
fur trader, or any of the thousand and one happenings 
that filled with absorbing interest the everyday life of 
the American Indian before he was forced into the 
deadly monotony and utter hopelessness of existence on 
government reservations. 

These bits of information, caught by sharp-eyed 
observers always watching from the council house roof. 


32 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


were heralded among the lodges by certain old men who 
filled the place of town-criers. Also, these reported the 
decisions from the Council Lodge, in which were regu- 
lated all the more important affairs of the tribe. 

On that pleasant summer’s evening, with the sun 
near his setting, a perfect peace reigned over the village. 
Its children romped with shrill laughter at the river’s 
edge, where they splashed and swam in the yellow wa- 
ters with the joy of so many newly hatched ducklings. 
Women were making preparations for the evening meal 
or coming in groups, merry with chatter and laughter, 
from the garden patches which they cultivated with hoes 
formed from the shoulder blades of elks and where they 
raised corn, beans, and pumpkins. The lordly warriors, 
whose life work was war and the chase, spent this hour 
of leisure in smoking, gambling, the playing of athletic 
games, the discussion of current affairs, or in respect- 
ful listening to tales of prowess rehearsed by their 
elders. 

Aloof from this busy life, but watching its various 
scenes with curious interest, sat the white man known 
as Wicasta,” who, having accepted formal adoption 
into the tribe, was now regarded as one of the perma- 
nent residents of that hospitable village. He was clad 
in buckskin, and his hair, uncut since leaving civiliza- 
tion, hung long over his shoulders. His face was 
smooth-shaven, but tanned by sun and wind until it 
was but little lighter than those of his Indian compan- 


WITH THE ARICAREES 


33 


ions ; and it was evident at a glance that his present 
mode of life had endowed him with a muscular strength 
undreamed of in earlier years. By means of it he had 
established a supremacy in athletic games that now was 
rarely disputed. Also had he learned the tricks of the 
hunter, until he ranked among the foremost; while 
the bravery with which he had fought in defense of the 
village during the several attacks made upon it since 
he became a resident had earned for him the privileges 
of a warrior. Through his knowledge of medicine and 
surgery he had been able to accomplish many cures 
that seemed to the Aricarees little short of miracles and 
which caused him to rank first among the medicine men 
of the village. Of course, the other medicine men hated 
him and strove in every way to check his ever-increasing 
influence, but thus far their efforts had been made in 
vain. The sick or wounded no longer appealed to them 
for aid, but to him, and through the presents of horses, 
furs, and other articles of value received from grateful 
patients he was accumulating wealth beyond that of any 
member of the tribe. With two classes of patients he 
steadfastly refused to have dealings : those who came to 
grief while under the influence of liquor and those 
wounded while on scalp-hunting expeditions. These, 
comprising the most lawless elements of the tribe, natu- 
rally sided with his enemies, the medicine men, and 
formed a party of opposition to him ; but secure in his 
own strength, and knowing that he could always count 


34 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


upon the firm support of Chief Two Stars, Wicasta paid 
slight heed to them. He was happy in his work, in his 
friends, and in his home, for, by the merest accident, a 
home was one of the first things that had been acquired 
by this white dweller among savages. 

He had been with the Aricarees but a few weeks 
when, being fully recovered of his illness, he accom- 
panied Peninah and a small party of buffalo-hunters 
into the Sioux country to secure a supply of meat 
for the village. As at that time Wicasta had no rifle 
and was unskilled in the use of a bow", he joined the 
party only as a pupil in the art of buffalo hunting, 
without any idea of taking an active part in the sport. 
But when, after several days of disappointment, the 
game was finally discovered, stalked with the utmost 
caution from leeward until within striking distance, 
and then charged with a furious rush of men and 
horses, he found himself taking part in the mad race 
with all the ardor of the Indians themselves. Although 
he did not at the moment realize the fact, he could not 
have remained behind, had he chosen so to do, for the 
horse that he rode was a trained buffalo hunter, and de^ 
termined to participate in the chase without regard to 
his rider^s wishes. The surprised herd gazed for a mo- 
ment stupidly, and then started on a gallop that, while 
appearing heavy and awkward, covered the ground with 
amazing speed. But the agile hunting ponies were still 
swifter, and within a couple of minutes had borne their 


WITH THE ARICAREES 


35 


naked, yelling riders into the thick of the flying mass, 
where they quickly were lost to sight in the cloud of 
dust raised by thousands of pounding hoofs. 

In the resulting mUee the young white man, who 
until that day had never even seen a live buffalo, found 
himself racing furiously beside one of the shaggy brutes, 
so close as to be within touch, and making fierce lunges 
at its side with his hunting-knife, the only weapon that 
he bore. The next thing he knew his quarry had darted 
off at a right angle and was rushing at headlong pace 
down a shallow coulee, or dry water course, while he, 
equally reckless of consequences, followed in hot pur- 
suit. Mile after mile they ran, the man several times 
getting within striking distance, but at each stab the 
hunted beast darted forward as though with renewed 
energy. 

Suddenly, while in full career, the knees of the 
wounded animal gave way, his lowered head struck the 
earth, and his huge bulk flung a complete somersault. 
Unable for a moment to check the impetus of his steed, 
the hunter dashed by the prone body and through a nar- 
row fringe of timber that seemed to have risen by magic 
before him. On its farther side was a stream, from 
which both he and his horse, dust-choked and dripping 
with sweat, drank thirstily. So exhausted were they 
and so deliciously refreshing was the water that the man 
spent some fifteen minutes dabbling in it before bethink- 
ing himself of the result of his chase. Then he walked 


36 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


back to where the buffalo had fallen and still lay. It was 
dead, and must have expired as it fell, for a stream of 
dark life-blood had gushed from its foam-flecked mouth. 
Also it was bleeding from the several deep wounds in- 
flicted by his hunting-knife; but the most extraordinary 
wound of all was a cut extending along the animaFs 
hump, from which a strip of meat had been removed. 

As the hunter gazed in astonishment at this sight, 
for which he could not in any way account, he became 
aware of an odor of burning, and it flashed across him 
that other humans must be in that vicinity. 

Cautiously making his way in the direction thus in- 
dicated, he came upon a strange scene. Seated with his 
back against the trunk of a cottonwood was an Indian, 
evidently very old and very feeble. Beside him knelt 
a young squaw, whose fair complexion denoted an ad- 
mixture of white blood in her veins, holding out to him 
a strip of meat that she had lifted from a bed of coals. 
It was plain that she was urging him to partake of the 
food thus providentially provided. But he heeded her 
not nor gave a glance in her direction. His dim eyes 
stared past her with a fixed gaze, as though fascinated by 
what they saw, and her words fell on ears already deaf 
to mortal sounds. To the trained eye of the physician 
it was evident that the ancient warrior was in the act 
of passing from the turbulent scenes of his long life and 
already had caught a glimpse of the great Beyond. 

As Wicasta hesitated, not knowing whether to ad- 


% 





“ You coward ! ” 


stormed Wicasta. 











WITH THE ARICAREES 


37 


vance or withdraw, there came the sudden twang of a 
bow-string and a feathered dart buried itself deep in 
the old man’s side. At the same moment an Aricaree 
warrior hounded from an opposite thicket and, even as 
the head of the veteran sank to his breast, it was scalped, 
and the murderer, with a shout of triumph, held aloft 
his horrid trophy. For a minute the kneeling girl re- 
mained motionless; then, with a scream of agony, she 
flung herself upon the lifeless form. Without compunc- 
tion or hesitation the Aricaree raised his bloody knife, 
and would have plunged it into her body had not the 
white spectator of the tragedy leaped forward and with 
a blow sent him staggering backward. 

You coward!” stormed Wicasta. You cur! 
You brutal assassin ! Is there any reason under heaven 
why I should not kill you as you just now killed that 
helpless old man ? ” 

In another instant the two would have clinched in 
a battle to the death, hut a sound of galloping hoofs 
caused them to pause ; and directly, Peninah, in anxious 
search of his friend, appeared on the scene. When all 
explanations were made and the intricacies of the situa- 
tion had been untangled, it appeared that the dead man 
was a Sioux warrior, so old as to be long past his years 
of usefulness, who had become so burdensome to his 
people as Anally to have been left behind them to die 
or be killed, as might happen. His youngest and fa- 
vorite granddaughter, Koda, whose father had been a 


38 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


mountain man,” or white trapper, heartbroken at 
this act of selfish cruelty, had slipped from camp when 
two days’ journey distant and made her way hack to 
him, determined to share his fate. A little parched corn 
had been left with the old man, but he could not eat it, 
and he was dying of starvation before the eyes of the 
devoted girl, when a buffalo pursued by a white man, 
and left dead behind him while he passed on, offered 
a food-supply too tempting to be resisted. 

So she had taken a portion of this most timely gift, 
hastily cooked it, and was urging her grandfather to eat 
when one of the hereditary foes of their people had 
stumbled across them. Of course, this opportunity for 
snatching the scalp of a lifelong enemy was too precious 
to be neglected, and the Aricaree would also have added 
that of the girl to his collection of trophies had not 
Wicasta interfered to prevent him. 

As it was, the warrior afterward claimed before a 
council of Aricaree chiefs that this scalp was lawfully 
his, and they would have so awarded it had not Wicasta 
for the second time saved the Sioux maiden’s life by 
demanding that she be given him for a wife, a demand 
that, according to Indian law, might not be refused. 
Thus the white medicine man unexpectedly acquired a 
home, and later became the devoted father of the little 
Hanana (Morning Light), the merriest, most bewitch- 
ing, and most precocious girl baby in the village, and 
the only one having blue eyes. 


CHAPTEK V 


STORY OF THE WHITE BUFFALO 

Although on that summer’s evening the Aricaree 
village appeared peaceful and happy, it was filled with 
a vague uneasiness and with many heartburnings. 
ISTever, since the wanton killing of Koda’s grandfather, 
had the Aricarees scored against their hereditary foes, 
the Dakotah. In all that time no Sioux scalp had been 
taken, nor had the Aricaree herd been increased by 
stolen Sioux ponies, although many expeditions had 
been sent forth in quest of both scalps and horses. In- 
variably had they returned empty-handed, sometimes 
with depleted numbers, and the worst of it was that 
the Aricarees well knew why their enemies were so in- 
variably successful against them. They knew, because 
in the early days of her captivity, while boasting of the 
prowess of her own people, Koda had told them. 

The Dakotah were in possession of the skin of a 
white buffalo, and though it was zealously guarded in 
the great Council Lodge of the Salt Waters (Devil’s 
Lake), its virtue had spread to all of the seven allied 
peoples forming the Sioux nation^ and thus had they 
become irresistible. 


39 


40 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


From earliest days the white buffalo, so rare that 
not more than one among the millions might he known 
to a generation, has been esteemed the most sacred of 
animals by the ITorth American Indian. He has taken 
rank with the white elephant of the East, the white bull 
of India, the white seal of Arctic dwellers, the white 
whale of the south seas, and the innumerable other 
white beasts, birds, or fishes venerated at various times, 
and in varying degrees, by all the peoples of the world. 
But on the plains no medicine was equal to the medi- 
cine of the white buffalo, and nothing could bring to a 
tribe such good fortune as the possession of one of the 
rare white-haired robes. How the Sioux owned this 
priceless treasure, and the Aricarees were consumed 
with envy. Also they were fearful that, unless they 
could by some means counteract its charm, their enemies 
would presently wipe them from the face of the earth. 
But what might be done? This was the problem that 
had occupied the most eminent talent among all the 
medicine men of the Aricarees, together with those of 
their stanch allies the Mandans, for nearly two years, 
and on the date of this chapter it proved itself to be no 
nearer a solution than when first propounded. 

It easily had been learned from Koda how the Sioux 
obtained their white buffalo skin. For a long time — 
many years, according to her story — one of the wisest 
of their medicine men had forced himself to abstain 
from all dreams, save such as included, in one shape or 


STORY OF THE WHITE BUFFALO 


41 


another, a white buffalo. Finallj his craft was re- 
warded by a dream so vivid that it might not be mis- 
construed. In it had appeared the desired object sur- 
rounded by clouds of smoke or steam, clearly indicating 
that its abiding place was the far-away land of Great 
Smoke that every plains Indian knew of, but which 
few of them had visited. Thus guided, a party of 
young Sioux braves had set forth, and after an absence 
of many moons half of their number had returned, 
bringing with them the coveted prize. Those left be- 
hind had yielded up their lives to the evil spirits of the 
Great Smoke Land; but, as their scalps had not been 
taken, this in nowise detracted from the magic prop- 
erties of the skin brought home by the survivors. 

This tale, told by the wife of Wicasta, so fired the 
ambition of the Aricarees that party after party of 
young warriors departed in search of the Great Smoke 
Land and its priceless treasures ; but, one after another, 
they had returned unsuccessful and with thinned ranks. 
Some had met with enemies and been defeated in bat- 
tle; others had had their horses stolen, and still others, 
losing their way amid the ranges of mighty mountains 
guarding the region of their desire, had met disaster 
in various forms. Now but one of these expeditions 
sent forth in quest of the golden fieece of the Amer- 
ican plains remained to be heard from, and it was one 
under leadership of Peninah, that had departed to the 
westward some two months earlier. ' 


42 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Of a sudden the peace of the evening was broken by 
shrill cries, while many pointing fingers directed atten- 
tion to the bluffs on whose crest four horsemen, pacing 
with deliberate motion, rode the sign of home-returning 
friends. Instantly the village was thrown into a state 
of tremendous excitement, for those who came might 
be Peninah’s party, and they might be bringing with 
them that which would retrieve the unhappy fortunes 
of the tribe. So the younger warriors sprang on their 
ponies and dashed away to extend vociferous welcome 
to the returning heroes, while the more important chiefs 
gathered with Two Stars on the roof of the council 
house, from which they could command a long extent 
of trail. The women betook themselves to the prepa- 
ration of a feast that should chiefiy consist of boiled 
dog-meat, the daintiest food known to their primitive 
housekeeping; while screaming youngsters chased the 
unfortunate curs destined for the pot, got in everybody's 
way, and rendered themselves as undesirably conspicu- 
ous as possible. 

The home-comers did indeed prove to be Peninah^s 
Argonauts; but they came with empty hands and with 
faces blackened in token of disaster. Also some who 
had gone forth with them, now were missing from their 
ranks. So they filed silently into the village, which re- 
ceived them in silence, and each warrior went to his 
own lodge, where his squaw, uttering no word, relieved 
him of shield and weapons, turned loose his wearied 


STORY OF THE WHITE BUFFALO 


43 


steed, and gave her gloomy lord such comfort as she 
might in shape of food and tobacco. Thus the black 
faces remained unseen by any, save only those who min- 
istered to them; nor did they utter speech until their 
leader had smoked with the chiefs in council and made 
his report. It was very brief, and was a tale of failure 
similar to those that had preceded it, except only that 
he had gained the land of Great Smoke and actually 
had seen a white buffalo. On attempting to approach 
it, however, he had been seized with a deadly sickness 
that nearly ended his life and from which he did not 
wholly recover for days. Others of his party, making 
even more desperate efforts to obtain the prize, had been 
fatally stricken, as had still others who strove to rescue 
them. So he had been baffled by the all-powerful spirits 
of evil, and had come home with blackened face to bring 
his sorrowful tale of defeat. 

Hot until the great pipe of council had passed three 
times around the circle of chiefs, and they had medi- 
tated in silence upon the story, was it delivered to the 
old men to be proclaimed throughout the village. Then 
the seal of silence was broken, and the wailing of 
women lamenting for those who never more would re- 
turn to their empty lodges broke forth without restraint. 
Through all the hours of darkness was it continued, 
and, mingling with the distressful bowlings of wolves 
and of wolf-like dogs, it effectually banished sleep ex- 
cept from the eyes of children, and rendered the night 


44 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


hideous. While it continued, three separate councils 
for considering the critical situation of the tribe held 
session. One was a council of chiefs and warriors of 
greatest experience, and another was a mystic gather- 
ing of medicine men; but the third was a meeting of 
but two persons. 

This last council, which was the only one that de- 
veloped a hopeful plan of operations, was held in what 
was known as the Wolf-Killer^s medicine lodge, a 
small structure of logs standing apart and well to the 
rear of the village. The white man who had built it 
thought of it as his laboratory, and few beside him- 
self were suffered to enter it. There was, however, one 
guest always welcomed to its interior, and his name 
was Peninah. Even he visited it only at long inter- 
vals, and always with greatest secrecy, under cover of 
darkness. 

On this occasion the son of Two Stars, excusing 
himself from the council of warriors on the plea, in- 
variably allowed, that he wished to retire to a secret 
place and prepare new medicine, made his way cau- 
tiously, but directly, to the log hut of his white friend 
and entered without ceremony. Wicasta already was 
there, and he gave the newcomer cordial greeting. 

Now tell me all about it,” he said in English, 
after Peninah had flung himself wearily on a pile of 
furs at one side of the room. Where did you see that 
white buffalo ? What sort of a place was he in ? Was 


STORY OF THE WHITE BUFFALO 


45 


he dead or alive ? Why couldn’t you get him ? What 
killed your warriors ? ” 

It was in the Land of Great Smoke, fifteen days 
of hard war-party travel toward the setting sun,” re- 
plied Peninah. It is a country of hills that reach to 
the sky, and of valleys that sink deep into the earth; 
of rushing rivers and thundering waters ; of fire, smoke, 
and steam. It is a land of much life and of sudden 
death. In it is one place very narrow, very deep, most 
of the time very dark; nothing grows in it, and its 
bottom is covered with bones. Bad smells come from 
it, many and various ; whoever enters it comes forth no 
more, but quickly dies. Men have done this and many 
beasts ; also birds have dropped dead while flying across 
it. Even the great wise one, the old buffalo bull, will 
sometimes enter this place of bones ; for, lying in it, I 
saw the dead bodies of three such. Of them one was 
white.” 

And the others were not ? ” 

E^o. They were such as may be seen every 

day.” 

But one was truly white ? ” 

Yes, though not of a clean whiteness. Its color 
was that of the melting snow, broadly streaked with a 
dirty yellow.” 

Just so. Did you see any other white animals in 
this place of bones ? ” 

Only where lay the white buffalo were two dead 


46 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


wolves, also white in streaks like a pinto pony; but of 
other bodies elsewhere not one was white.’’ 

And you came near losing your life in that 
place ? ” 

Yes. Almost did I join in, the long sleep of my 
fathers. Three of us started in together to skin the 
white buffalo. I stumbled and fell at the very entrance, 
so that for a time I slept. Certain others lifted me and 
carried me back, but the two who were with me pressed 
forward. When they also fell, two more ran to their 
aid, and all perished where they dropped. After that 
none would go in, but those who remained alive made 
haste to escape from the abode of such terror, taking 
me with them. That is all.” 

Um ! Evidently the place you visited is one of 
Nature’s own laboratories where she produces chemical 
compounds on a large scale. I should say that your 
particular gorge must contain the carbon dioxide and 
chlorine departments. Ordinary buffalo in attempting 
to pass through, probably hunting a short cut to some- 
where, is given happy despatch by CO2, or possibly by 
CO. He falls at the particular spot where an issue of 
HgO, heavily charged with Cl, is working with the 
lime of previous bones to produce a bleaching agent, 
that shortly converts him into a priceless and most 
worshipful Bisontis alba. You note the sequence, of 
course ? ” 

Owing to constant association with this white man 


STORY OF THE WHITE BUFFALO 


47 


Peninah could speak English fairly well, and could 
understand the more common forms of its ISTorth Amer- 
ican dialect; hut, on the present occasion, his compan- 
ion used words so entirely beyond his comprehension 
that he failed to catch a glimmer of their meaning and 
could only stare in blank silence. 

Never mind,’’ laughed the other. The only 
matter with you is that you are too sleepy to under- 
stand plain talk. But I’ll tell you what to do. Eirst, 
go home, turn in, and make up for lost sleep. Next, 
report to the chiefs that you have concocted some extra 
strong medicine and had a straight vision of white buf- 
falo that renders it imperative for you to return at 
once to the Land of Great Smoke. Then make up a 
party of new hands ; don’t enlist one of those who went 
with you before, and hit the trail. I will go with you, 
and when you have safely landed me beside that Gol- 
gotha of yours I will guarantee to hand out, within a 
very few days, the finest specimen of a white hufialo 
skin ever seen this side the Missouri, or the other side 
either, for that matter. Do you understand ? ” 

Yep. Sabe plenty. I take one time more the 
white buffalo trail, and Wicasta comes also. He make 
big medicine and catch white buffalo sure. We fetch 
him home. Then we fight Sioux and lick um, lick um, 
lick um ! ” 

Well, I didn’t say anything about the fight Sioux 
part, and I would advise that you let those chaps alone, 


48 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


no matter how many white buffalo you have in storage. 
That is, unless they attack you first. The other part 
of your understanding is all right, though, and you 
shall have your hearths desire if there is any virtue in 
chemistry.’’ 


CHAPTEE VI 


OFF FOE THE LAND OF GEEAT SMOKE 

Peninah’s decision to make a second trip into the 
dreaded Land of Great Smoke in search of a white buf- 
falo, and the announcement that this time he was to be 
accompanied by the white medicine man, created a pro- 
found sensation in the village. Hundreds of young 
warriors were eager to join the new expedition but only 
a dozen were chosen, for it was desired to move with 
the utmost speed, and the greater the number to be fed 
the more time must be wasted in hunting. But three 
days were allowed the members of this chosen band for 
preparation; and at the end of that time, having left 
the village separately, they met at a previously named 
rendezvous several miles away. 

To this point also came Wicasta, eager for the 
undertaking, but heavy-hearted from his recent parting 
with the little Hanana, who had clung to him with tears 
in her blue eyes and baby pleadings that she, too, should 
go. It was their first separation since she had become 
old enough to feel a disappointment at being left, and 
the young man was amazed to discover how deep-rooted 
was his love for this bit of humanity that had learned 
to call him father. 


49 


50 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Each member of the party was finely mounted, 
and each led a still better horse, to whose hack was 
bound a light pack of provisions. This was their only 
baggage, for, though they might be absent for months, 
the wilderness itself would supply all their needs. Only, 
Wicasta carried equipment sufficient to load two horses, 
but none of the others knew its nature, nor on the whole 
journey did they see him make use of it. Instead of 
surrounding himself with luxuries, such as willingly 
would have been accorded to one of his race and posi- 
tion, he lived as his wild companions lived, cheerfully 
sharing their hardships and privations, and winning 
their respectful admiration by excellence in the very 
things they most affected, such as feats of strength, en- 
durance, and marksmanship. 

Their departure from the village had been followed 
quickly by that of Bear Tooth, a medicine man of great 
repute among the Aricarees, though by birth he was a 
Sioux. He had been captured in early youth, adopted 
by a famous Aricaree medicine man, who had brought 
him up to his own trade, had married an Aricaree 
squaw, and had won his way to a high position in the 
tribe. At the same time he had not forgotten his na- 
tive tongue, and occasionally, during periods of truce 
between the warring tribes, he visited his blood relar 
tions among the Dakotah. Through the coming of 
Wicasta he, more than any other of the Aricaree medi- 
cine men, had suffered loss of influence, and hating the 


OFF FOR THE LAND OF GREAT SMOKE 51 


white man for this reason, Bear Tooth had become his 
principal enemy. 

On the present occasion, when it became known that 
Wicasta himself was to go in search of a white buffalo 
robe, a thing that the Aricarees longed to possess more 
than any other object in the world, and that he had 
promised not to return without it. Bear Tooth was 
filled with keenest jealousy. Should this white man 
succeed in conferring so great a gift upon the tribe, 
then would his influence become greater than that of 
all other medicine men. iTo, it must not be. In one 
way or another the ambitions of this stranger must be 
curbed; and he, Bear Tooth, was the person to under- 
take the task, since he of all the medicine men had most 
at stake. 

So he announced a journey to the Dog Dens, which 
lay to the eastward, where he would make medicine for 
the success of Peninah’s party, and caused his squaw 
to set him across the Missouri in a bull-boat, with his 
war horse, which, next to that of Wicasta, was the finest 
of all the village herd, swimming behind. Landing on 
the opposite side, he galloped away, leaving the woman 
to return with news of his departure. As soon as he 
was hidden from her view, however, he altered his direc- 
tion, proceeded downstream a few miles, and, recross- 
ing to the side from which he had started, he hastened 
westward through the night in the direction taken by 
Wicasta and Peninah. For a night and a day he fol- 


52 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


lowed their trail; and then, having learned its general 
course, he dropped it and headed toward an encamp- 
ment of Southern Sioux, among whom he had certain 
acquaintances in his own line of business. 

In the meantime Peninah’s party unsuspectingly 
continued their way across a vast, treeless expanse of 
undulating plain, broken by innumerable coulees and 
crossed by many small streams that eventually found 
their way into the Missouri. Also these limitless pas- 
ture lands were alive with game that the haste of the 
travelers compelled them to pass unmolested. On the 
third day the monotony of the plains was broken by 
the Bad Lands bordering the Little Missouri. Here the 
white man gladly would have lingered to study the won- 
derful effects that had followed the prehistoric combus- 
tion of many thousands of acres of coal seams and the 
dropping into the fiery cavities thus created of broad 
areas of superimposed earth crust. Between the deep 
depressions thus made towered huge monuments of 
fused clay and sand, fantastic in shape, brilliant in 
coloring, and forming bewildering labyrinths in which 
one might wander for weeks without discovering an 
outlet. 

But Peninah threaded these mazes as readily as the 
native of a great city traverses, without hesitation, its 
equally bewildering and far more deadly network of 
streets and alleys. Beyond the Bad Lands were other 
plains and deserts to be crossed; then foothills, moun- 


OFF FOR THE LAND OF GREAT SMOKE 53 


tain ranges, and nestling valleys, rnsLing rivers, icy 
cold and crystal clear, until finally, after many days of 
arduous travel, the Aricarees came to the magic Land 
of Great Smoke. 

It lay in the heart of rugged mountains, some close- 
wrapped in dark green mantles of forest, while others 
stood brazenly naked in the sunlight, and from all parts 
of it issued subterranean grumblings and roarings. In 
every direction floated clouds of steam, torrents of boil- 
ing water were hurled aloft, and great areas bubbled 
and seethed like the surface scum of a caldron. Fis- 
sured rocks emitted whiffs of sulphur, countless pools 
were charged with sparkling effervescence or dyed in 
prismatic colors by the varied output of underground 
laboratories, while everywhere were deposits of salts or 
of acid crystals gleaming white or richly tinted. 

The road into this wonderland led through a high 
mountain pass and was deep worn by the feet of mil- 
lions of visitors, human and brute, who during the cen- 
turies had sought its healing springs and salt licks, its 
thermal baths and effervescing waters. Ho other region 
in the world was so stocked with game, and nowhere 
else was it so little hunted. Buffalo and elk are not 
superstitious, but ignorant human beings always are; 
and though the Indians of both plain and mountain 
frequently visited this chosen abode of evil spirits, they 
always accomplished their errands with dispatch, and 
departed again as speedily as possible. 


54 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Thus, as the little band of Aricarees led by Peninah 
descended from the mountain pass and came to one after 
another of the hissing, spouting, bubbling marvels of 
the region, the white man could not find words to ex- 
press his wonder and delight; but his Indian compan- 
ions advanced in apprehensive silence, grasping their 
weapons tightly and casting furtive glances to every 
side. Finally their increasing fears caused the leaders 
to make camp several miles short of their ultimate des- 
tination, the dreaded Place of Bones. During that 
night Wicasta was the only member of the party who 
slept, the others remaining nervously awake, starting 
fearfully at the unaccountable sounds heard in every 
direction, and vowing that if they were permitted to 
greet another dawn never again to intrude upon that 
land of the Oki. 

With earliest daylight the white man was eager to 
press forward, but many of the others protested, declar- 
ing that they would rather spend the remainder of their 
lives hunting for a white buffalo on the open plains than 
to secure one by passing another night in that dreadful 
place. Finally Peninah effected a compromise. If 
they only would push forward as far as the Place of 
Bones, he himself would lead them away from this evil 
Land of Great Smoke before another setting of the sun. 
So they consented, and shortly afterward the entire 
party stood beside a rocky gorge, where seemingly a 
mountain had been rent asunder, and gazed fearfully 


OFF FOR THE TAND OF GREAT SMOKE 55 


into its shadowy depths, as yet unlighted by the newly 
risen sun. Besides being narrow it was not over half 
a mile in length, and it formed the entrance into a val- 
ley, dimly seen from where they stood, which otherwise 
was inaccessible. The Valley of Mystery’’ Peninah 
named it, at the same time declaring that neither man 
nor beast had ever entered it. Only birds may fly 
in,” he said. 

With increasing sunlight the shadows of the gorge 
were dissipated, until at length its bottom was visible. 
It indeed was paved with bones bleached to snowy 
whiteness, and throughout its length was no sign of 
verdure nor of life, but death everywhere was in evi- 
dence, for, in addition to the bleached bones, were many 
bodies of animals in various stages of decay. 

Peninah indicated the spot, very near the entrance, 
where he had fallen and been overcome by the noxious 
vapors of the gorge. Also he pointed out, farther on, 
an indistinct mass that he felt sure was the white buf- 
falo by which he had been tempted to make entry into 
the death trap; but he could not locate the remains of 
the Aricarees who there had lost their lives. Neither 
was another white buffalo to be discovered in any part 
of the gorge visible from where they stood. 

To Peninah this absence of the thing they had come 
for was so disappointing that he regarded it as a calam- 
ity, but his followers were greatly relieved that now 
there was no reason for remaining in so dreadful a 


56 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


vicinity. Only Wicasta seemed not to care one way or 
another. From the moment of first sighting the gorge 
he had been joyfully snifiing the tainted air, tasting 
the earth at his feet, and peering intently into the depths 
before him. ^Tow he startled his English-speaking com- 
panion by exclaiming: 

It is a wonderful place, Peninah ! Simply won- 
derful! I must have at least a week of it.” 

“ You mean you would stay here ? ” 

Yes. Certainly. Of course. What do you sup- 
pose I have traveled all these weary miles for ? ” 

“ But there is not any white buffalo.” 

“ There will be, though. I promised you one, and 
ITl have it ready inside of a week.” 

“ My young men will not stay. Even now are they 
anxious to be gone.” 

“ Let them go to thunder ! Who cares what they 
do ? I tell you I am going to stay, whether any one else 
does or not.” 

In the end it was agreed that a carefully concealed 
camp, furnished with Wicasta’s belongings, should be 
established for him in the vicinity of the gorge by which 
he was so fascinated, while the remainder of the party 
should retire beyond the pass through which they had 
entered this region of terror and there wait seven days. 
They would spend their time in hunting the abundant 
fur-bearing game of that region, while Wicasta should 
be allowed to make his medicine ” without interrup- 


OFF FOR THE LAND OF GREAT SMOKE 57 


tion. Even his food would be furnished by the hunt- 
ers, and Peninah should bring it to him each day. At 
the end of a week, whether he had or had not redeemed 
his promise of securing a white buffalo skin, the entire 
party would set forth on their homeward journey. 

The terms of this agreement were carried out so 
promptly that, within an hour, a well-hidden site be- 
side a spring of pure water had been found; a lodge, 
in which was placed Wicasta’s property, had been 
erected; his three horses, Don Eelix, the superb black 
stallion presented to him by Chief Two Stars, and the 
two pack animals, had been hoppled in a nearby pas- 
ture ; and the Aricarees had taken their departure, leav- 
ing the white man sole human occupant, so far as he 
knew, of the wonderland of Great Smoke. 


5 


CHAPTER VII 


IN THE PLACE OF BONES 

On being left alone the white man began at once to 
study the phenomena of the gorge to which the Indians 
had given a name signifying the Place of Bones. From 
his private stores he produced a wide-mouthed glass 
bottle or jar, together with an elh hide, and from the 
latter, by cutting it in circles, he fashioned a stout cord, 
more than one hundred feet in length. Making one 
end of this fast about the neck of his bottle, he lowered 
it over the edge of the gorge at the point where he first 
had gazed into its gloomy depths. When the bottle 
rested on the bottom, he marked the distance by tying a 
knot in his cord. Then drawing the bottle to the sur- 
face, he cautiously smelled of its contents, though to all 
appearance it remained empty. 

Whew ! ” he exclaimed, turning his head quickly 
away and inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. “ As I 
thought, CO2, or worse. How for the thickness of this 
death blanket.’^ 

Emptying the jar of its invisible contents, he partly 
filled it with sand, into which he thrust a home-made 
candle, several of which he had brought with him from 
58 


IN THE PLACE OF BONES 


59 


the Aricaree village. Lighting this, he again lowered 
the jar, causing it to move very slowly as it approached 
the bottom. All at once the candle-flame began to burn 
blue, and he stopped paying out line. Then the flame 
expired, and he made another knot. 

Distance between the knots about flve feet. H-m ! 
By avoiding low places a tall man might wade through 
in safety,” commented the investigator. Certainly 
one on horseback could ride through all right, if only 
he could persuade the animal to hold his head up.” 

The man’s next move was one that his Indian 
friends would have deemed simply suicidal, for it was 
nothing more nor less than a deliberate walking into 
the gorge from its upper end. The only thing he car- 
ried was his bottle-candlestick with its taper lighted. 
A short but steep descent brought him to the flrst of 
the bones by which the floor of the passage was paved 
to an unknown depth. At this point his candle was 
held low down ; but, as he made a cautious advance and 
its flame began to burn blue, he gradually raised it until 
finally it was held on a level with his breast. He now 
was half-way through the gorge and had reached the 
confused heap of skin and bones that Peninah had de- 
clared to be the remains of a white buffalo. It lay 
where a trickle of water, issuing from a side cleft, dis- 
appeared into some other subterranean passage, and 
here the air was scented by an odor distinctly different 
from any other that had come to his inquiring nostrils. 


60 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR. 


Cl/’ muttered the chemist ; and here is the plant 
that, perhaps once in a generation, produces a white 
buffalo. But what I don’t understand is how any ani- 
mal with breathing apparatus held lower than that of 
a well-grown horse ever gets this far.” 

A still greater puzzle was offered by the abounding 
evidence that animals not only had forced their way to 
this point, hut had passed beyond it, as was evidenced 
by the trail of hones, continued until an angle of the 
wall hid it from further view. 

Having discovered the bleachery,” continued the 
man, who had formed a habit of putting his thoughts 
into words, the next step is to contrive some way of 
using it without stooping. I can bring the skin to this 
place easy enough, but how I am properly to spread it, 
hair side down, and afterward how I am to watch it, 
turn it, and note the changes that will take place, with- 
out putting my head within the fatal gas, is a problem 
promising to require considerable thought.” 

As standing in a poisoned atmosphere that might 
at any moment rise and overwhelm him was not a choice 
position for profound meditation, the man carefully re- 
traced his way to pure air and safety. As he did so he 
was struck by the utter absence of motion in the atmos- 
phere of the gorge. Undisturbed by a breath, it was as 
lifeless as that of a tomb; and it was a great relief to 
emerge from it into the brisk breeze of the upper world. 

Once outside he found himself oppressed by weak- 


IN THE PLACE OF BONES 


61 


ness and a violent headache. Reaching his camp, he 
swallowed an alkaline powder, ate a hearty meal of food 
already provided, and felt better. Then he slept for 
an hour, and awoke so refreshed that he determined to 
penetrate the gorge once more before nightfall. 

This time he bore on his hack a fine buffalo skin, 
including head and horns, that he had brought from the 
distant Aricaree village. He also carried his impro- 
vised safety lamp, a precaution that proved to he well 
taken, since by means of it he found the level of the 
deadly gases to be a full inch higher than on his pre- 
vious visit. In spite of this he made his way to the 
place that he termed the hleachery,” but was only able 
to drop his burden before the effect of the rising gases 
compelled him to beat a hasty retreat. Tinally emerg- 
ing from the awful trap that had very nearly caught 
him, he found himself so sick and weak that only by a 
tremendous exercise of will did he reach his camp. 
Then he dropped to the ground, and almost instantly 
was buried in a profound slumber, from which he did 
not wake for many hours. 

When next Wicasta became conscious of his sur- 
roundings night was far advanced toward morning, as 
was indicated by the full moon sunk half-way from the 
zenith to the western horizon. Again did the man find 
himself hungry, and this time he appeased his appetite 
with a strip of dried buffalo meat, eaten raw. He did 
not care to risk the making of a fire, nor did he, at that 


62 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


moment, wish to take time for cooking. The problem 
of the gorge and how he might utilize its chemical 
treasures still remained with him, to the exclusion of 
all other thoughts. So, even as he ate hungrily of his 
strip of meat, he picked up his rifle and strolled forth 
to view once more the scene of his perplexities. 

Eeaching the point from which he first had looked 
into the gorge, he remained for some minutes motion- 
less, leaning on his rifle and gazing into the narrow 
depths. The pathway of bones beneath him gleamed 
white in the moonlight, but there was no sign of life, 
nor was there a sound to break the stillness, save only 
those caused by subterranean ferment, to which he al- 
ready had become accustomed. There was, to be sure, 
a continuous rushing noise, as though of wind, that 
seemed to come from the gorge itself; but he felt no 
breeze, and remembering the dead stillness of the atmos- 
phere when he had trodden the path of bones, he con- 
cluded that the sound must be caused either by steam 
or escaping gas. 

Suddenly he was startled by a clatter of hoofs, and 
turned in time to see an elk running for life, with 
antlers laid flat on his back, and several big timber 
wolves in silent but hot pursuit. The chase was headed 
directly for the mouth of the gorge, and in another min- 
ute it had dashed down the steep declivity and, with 
flying leaps, had entered the dread portal. 

Fascinated, the spectator leaned far forward, mo- 


IN THE PLACE OF BONES 


63 


mentarily expecting to see both pursued and pursuers 
yield to the deadly influence of the place and fall, never 
more to rise. To his amazement they did nothing of 
the kind. Instead of falling, or even faltering, they 
seemed to fly with added speed along the white path- 
way, and in another minute they had disappeared be- 
hind the angle that cut ofl farther view. 

The man rubbed his eyes and gazed about him 
doubtfully. Was he still asleep and dreaming, or had 
he witnessed a miracle ? If he had not heard the clat- 
ter of the elk’s hoofs, the rattle of the bony pavement, 
and the panting of the wolves as they ran with lolling 
tongues, he might have deemed them the ghosts of de- 
funct animals; but he knew that he had gaze^ upon 
flesh and blood. He also knew that this same flesh and 
blood had passed unharmed through what he had ample 
reason to believe was an accumulation of deadly gases 
at least five feet in depth. By all the laws of chemistry 
every one of those animals should have dropped dead 
before they had advanced fifty feet into the gorge ; and 
yet they had galloped through it as though it were filled 
with the purest of air. Here was a mystery greater 
than any yet offered by that land of wonders, and one 
promptly to be investigated. 

Thus thinking, the man, with rifle in the hollow of 
his arm, left his elevated post of observation and has- 
tened to the declivity leading into the gorge down 
which elk and wolves had flung themselves but a few 


64 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


minutes before. The sound as of wind was much more 
distinct here^ and he had taken but a couple of down- 
ward steps before he became conscious of an inrush of 
air from behind. It grew stronger as he advanced, until 
at the bottom he found himself hurrying before a blast 
that swept through the gorge with all the force of a gale, 
driving before it all noxious gases and filling the place 
of death with pure, life-giving air. Thus was the 
apparently unsolvable problem of the elk and the wolves 
simply explained, though the cause of the blast, which, 
as the man afterward learned, blew nearly every night, 
and always in that same direction, remained for the 
present undiscovered. 

Assuring himself by repeated tests that the passage 
of the gorge now was perfectly safe, so far as its atmos- 
phere was concerned, our investigator hastened to the 
place where he had dropped the buffalo skin, unrolled 
it and spread it to his satisfaction. Then curiosity led 
him to continue his exploration of the gorge to its far- 
ther end, where a sharp acclivity, similar to the one at 
the entrance, gave access to the Valley of Mystery. 
By the uncertain light of the rapidly sinking moon he 
could gain no idea of its size or shape, and he had sev- 
eral most excellent reasons for not carrying his investi- 
gations further just at that time. 

One was that the bottom of the trough-like gorge 
was considerably depressed near its valley end, and he 
realized that when the gases should again collect they 


IN THE PLACE OF BONES 


65 


might at that point completely submerge a man on foot. 
Thus, should the air blast be interrupted, a return 
through the gorge would be rendered impossible. Nor 
did he then know whether the gale of that night was a 
thing of regular or exceptional occurrence. So, if he 
got caught in the valley, he might be compelled to re- 
main there for an indefinite length of time. Another 
reason for returning promptly was that the force of the 
life-giving air blast was sensibly weakening, and a third 
was the necessity of being on hand to_meet Peninah 
when that young Indian should make his promised visit. 

Thus thinking, our explorer regretfully turned back 
from the very portal of the valley that no man ever had 
entered and hastened to retrace his course over the path- 
way of bones, now indistinct with shadow. With the 
first coming of dawn he regained his camp, well satisfied 
with the night’s work. At the same time he was deter- 
mined to seize the very first opportunity for another 
and much more extended trip into the enchanted valley 
whose secret he alone had unlocked. 


CHAPTEE VIII 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 

According to promise, Peninah appeared about 
noon, bringing with him a liberal supply of meat, and 
remained for an hour. He was curious to learn if his 
friend had as yet discovered a white buffalo, and he 
looked gravely skeptical when informed that while the 
animal himself had not been seen, its trail had been 
found and was being hotly followed. After meditating 
this statement for a time, he announced that he might 
not come again for several days, because of his young 
men, who desired to visit a stream some distance north 
of their present camp, that was said to abound with 
beaver. White traders on the Missouri were paying 
what seemed to the Indians fabulous prices for beaver 
skins, and the Aricarees were desirous to make the most 
of the present opportunity for gathering a harvest of 
the precious pelts. As Peninah was the responsible 
leader of the party, the strict rules governing such a 
position demanded that he accompany his warriors 
wherever they went. He apologized to his friend for 
the necessity, and begged him to join the expedition; 
but this Wicasta declined to do, saying that he was well 
66 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 


67 


satisfied to remain alone where he was, and the more 
time that was allowed him to make his white buffalo 
medicine the better pleased he should be. He felt per- 
fectly safe in that place where no Indian cared to pass 
the night, and he only stipulated that when the beaver 
hunters were ready to start for their distant home he 
should be given a full day in which to prepare for 
departure. 

The truth was that he did not care to tell even 
Peninah of his discoveries in the gorge, and was more 
than pleased at the prospect of a few uninterrupted 
days in which to explore the Valley of Mystery. 

So Peninah departed, and the white man, once more 
left alone in the Land of Great Smoke, began making 
preparations for his own adventure. While leaving his 
lodge standing, he made, at some distance from it, a 
cache or hiding place for such of his belongings as he 
did not propose to carry with him. 

Prom time immemorial the cache (from the French 
cacher — to hide — and pronounced ^^kash”) has been 
to the American Indian what a storage warehouse is to 
his white brother, a place of safe deposit for goods not 
immediately needed. The cache may be prepared in a 
hollow tree or log, in a crave or rocky crevice, or even 
in a snow-bank; but the most artistic construction is 
that of the plains dweller who possesses none of the 
natural hiding places so common to hills and moun- 
tains. When he decides to make a cache, he selects a 


68 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


dry, grass-covered clay bank, near a running stream, 
covers the vicinity of his proposed digging with blan- 
kets or robes, and with his hunting knife carefully cuts 
out a two-foot circle of sod. This, with the loose soil 
directly beneath it, is removed to a place where it is 
safe from disturbance, and carefully covered from the 
drying influence of the sun. The workman next digs 
straight down about three feet, and then begins to in- 
crease the diameter of his hole until he has a bell-shaped 
chamber of size sufiicient to contain his goods. During 
this digging every particle of earth is handed out, 
heaped on a blanket, and carried to the stream, where 
it is thrown in, to be borne away by the current. 

The chamber thus excavated is lined with bark, 
grass, sticks, mats, or skins, and the goods, well aired, 
are placed within. A hide is stretched over them, and 
any kind of dry material is tramped down above it 
until the orifice is nearly filled. Then the loose soil, 
that has been saved, is put back and solidly packed, at 
the same time being frequently sprinkled with water to 
destroy the scent. Finally the sod cover is fitted into 
place, exactly as it was, the surrounding blankets are 
removed, every footprint is obliterated, every blade of 
grass that has been crushed or bent is restored to a 
natural position, and the locality is abandoned for a 
night. If on the following morning the cache has not 
been disturbed, it is left for good, not to be revisited 
until the necessity for reopening it arises. 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 


69 


While Wicasta’s cache was an affair much simpler 
than this^ it was constructed with such care that its 
preparation occupied the remainder of the day, and 
night was at hand before he was ready to begin his 
exploration. He had decided to enter the valley on 
horseback, riding his splendid buffalo hunter, but leav- 
ing the two pack ponies in pasture where they were. 
Consequently, shortly after sunset, he rode to the en- 
trance of the gorge and began a cautious descent of its 
steep slope. He hoped to find the current of air that 
had so materially aided him the night before again in 
operation, but was doomed to disappointment. Hot a 
breath stirred in those gloomy depths, and suddenly 
Don Felix, throwing up his head with a snort of terror, 
stood still, refusing to advance another step. 

Eight you are, old boy,’^ said his rider soothingly. 

There is danger, and plenty of it. I believe we could 
ride through safe enough, if only you would continue 
to hold up your head ; but there is no necessity to take 
the risk.’’ 

Eegaining the top of the bank, they waited, the man 
sitting on the ground with his back against a bowlder, 
and the horse, at the end of a rope, cropping such grass 
as he could reach. Slowly the hours passed. The moon 
rose and flooded the silent place with mystic light, the 
horse ceased nosing the scanty herbage, and, returning 
to his master, stood above him with drooping head. 
The man himself alternately dozed and, starting into 


70 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


wakefulnesS; listened for the rush of wind that should 
assure the safety of his road. Of other dangers than 
that of the gases he had no thought. 

During one of his brief periods of dozing Don 
Felix half turned, and, with ears pricked forward, began 
eagerly to sniff the night air. Then he lifted his hand- 
some head and woke the echoes with a shrill neigh, 
which was immediately answered from no great dis- 
tance. That is, an attempt was made at an answer, 
but it ended abruptly, as though choked off. Wicasta 
sprang to his feet in time to see a couple of human 
forms glide across a patch of moonlight and disappear 
in a black shadow. Then came the twang of a bow- 
string, and an arrow flew so close that he heard its 
venomous hiss. At the same moment a dozen or more 
horsemen swept into view, and, breaking into full cry, 
like a pack of hounds sighting their quarry, bore directly 
down upon him. 

Leaping to the back of his own horse, the white 
man made a dash for the only possible avenue of 
escape, the declivity leading into the grewsome Place 
of Bones, and his pursuers uttered yells of derision at 
the sight. This time, Don Felix, maddened by the 
pain of a second arrow that quivered in one of his 
haunches, made no protest, but flew down the white 
pathway like a whirlwind, snorting and holding his 
head high as he went. 

The Sioux, for this was a band of those dauntless 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 


71 


fighters, accompanied by Bear Tooth, the Aricaree 
medicine man, reached the end of the gorge in time 
to see the rider, whom they had believed doomed to 
certain death, disappear behind the angle already men- 
tioned. They could hardly credit their eyesight. And 
yet his figure had been perfectly distinct, so that all 
had seen it. They believed it to be that of Wicasta, 
the white medicine man, whose fame had spread to 
every Sioux village, and whose scalp had been prom- 
ised them by Bear Tooth, his enemy. If it was indeed 
he, and he could traverse the Place of Bones in safety, 
might not they do the same? One of the dismounted 
warriors made the attempt, but fell at the foot of the 
declivity, and was barely dragged back in time- to save 
his life by two comrades, who held their breath while 
they rushed down and clutched him. 

Perhaps a man on horseback might succeed where 
one on foot had failed, and a venturesome young war- 
rior advanced to the trail. His pony snorted with ter- 
ror and balked at entering upon the white pathway, 
but was forced forward. Quivering, and showing 
every sign of a deadly fear, the animal advanced slowly 
some fifty feet, and his rider turned to glance trium- 
phantly back. At that moment the terrified animal 
lowered his head as though to sniff at the white things 
on which he was so gingerly treading. As the deadly 
gases entered his nostrils he uttered a choking scream, 
reared, wheeled with such sudden violence as to un- 


72 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


seat his rider, and dashed madly toward a place of 
safety. 

The unfortunate young warrior had taken the pre- 
caution to secure himself to his horse by means of a 
broad leathern band, and thus he now was dragged 
back to his horrified friends head downward. By the 
time he reached them he was dead, and they were con- 
vinced that the human figure seen by them to traverse 
without harm the pathway of bones was either a spirit 
or a magician of such power that death could not over- 
come him. As both evil spirits and magicians are most 
to be dreaded at night, that neighl^rhood was not at 
all to their liking, and despite certain feeble protests 
uttered by Bear Tooth, .the entire party rode hastily 
away, taking their dead with them. 'Nor did they halt 
until they were well beyond the limits of the Land of 
Great Smoke. 

In the meantime, Wicasta, unaware of the departure 
of his enemies or of what had happened to them, con- 
tinued his furious ride through the gorge to the Val- 
ley of Mystery. All the way, Don Felix, as though 
realizing wherein lay the danger, carried his head high, 
and only at the very end of the white pathway, in the 
depression noted by our explorer on his previous visit, 
did he inhale a breath of the deadly fumes. For an 
instant he staggered; then, gathering his energies for 
a supreme effort, he leaped forward and gained the 
slope leading to safety; with another forward plunge. 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 


73 


he fell, but his head lay within the zone of pure air, 
and a few long breaths so revived him that he was able 
to regain his feet. Then his master led him slowly on 
into the beautiful valley that was believed never before 
to have been trodden by the foot of man. 

Feeling secure from present pursuit or molestation, 
our explorer prepared to pass the remainder of the 
night under a fine oak that stood a few hundred yards 
beyond the mouth of the gorge. Here, after picketing 
Don Felix, he spread the only blanket he had brought, 
and slept without interruption until daylight. 

The succeeding four days were delightfully spent 
in a thorough exploration of the Valley of Mystery, 
which to this first intruder seemed a veritable Garden 
of Eden. It was very nearly circular in shape, with 
a diameter of about five miles, and was entirely walled 
by precipitous mountain sides that rendered it acces- 
sible only by sheer drops from perilous heights, unless 
one came through the gorge, which also afforded the 
only means of egress. It was a place of trees and flow- 
ers, of green grass and abounding springs ; also it was 
a place of beasts and birds as tame as they must have 
been in the original Garden of Eden when the original 
man called them up to be named. While the birds 
came and went at will, the beasts or their progenitors 
must have drifted in through the gorge at times when 
it was free from gases, and never been able to note the 
proper hour for escape. That many former occupants 


74 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


of the valley had attempted to leave it was evident from 
the bones in the gorge, which were fully as plentiful 
at that end as at the other. And it was fortunate that 
this had been the case, else the little valley would be 
crowded to suffocation with animal life. 

So far as Wicasta could discover, there were but 
two drawbacks to this paradise ; one was its awful lone- 
liness and the other was its almost tropical heat on sun- 
shiny days from noon until midnight. On the other 
hand, its atmosphere from midnight until noon was 
delightfully cool and bracing, and our explorer shrewdly 
suspected that these conditions had much to do with 
the air blast which at times made the Place of Bones 
a safe thoroughfare. 

One night during his stay in the valley, when he 
discovered the conditions to be favorable, he ventured 
into the gorge for a look at his bleaching buffalo skin, 
and found the process very nearly completed. He did 
not continue to the farther end of the passage, for fear 
lest it still should be occupied by his enemies, and as 
it was not yet time for the Aricarees to be back from 
their expedition against the beaver, there was nothing, 
to be gained by venturing into dangerous territory. 

Finally, however, the time limit expired, and he 
determined to make an effort to rejoin his friends. At 
the very outset he encountered an unforeseen difficulty, 
for Don Felix stubbornly and absolutely refused to 
enter the gorge. Heither persuasion nor blows would 


DON FELIX GIVES WARNING 


75 


induce him, and at length Wicasta was regretfully 
obliged to proceed on foot, leaving his beloved horse 
behind. The life-giving gale was blowing in his face, 
so that he could follow the trail of bones in safety ; but 
when he reached the now completely bleached buffalo 
skin a new difficulty presented itself. He wanted to 
carry it out, but was already so heavily burdened by 
his rifle, together with his entire stock of ammunition, 
that he found the extra weight too much for that rough 
road. Which should he leave behind? 


CHAPTEE IX 


SCALPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD 

The buffalo skin, with its head and horns, was in 
itself a load, and Wicasta had proposed to carry it out 
on horseback. He already was burdened by his heavy 
rifle and his stock of ammunition, of which he had 
a very liberal supply and which he had deemed too 
precious to cache. So he had taken it with him into 
the valley, and now was bringing it out again. At 
length he decided to leave in this place of safety that 
which he considered of greatest value, carry out the 
buffalo skin, and return for his ammunition. 

While only a suspicion of reflected light from a 
late-rising moon found its way to the bottom of the 
gorge, the white pathway was readily traceable, and the 
young man had no difficulty in finding his way out. 
At the point where he had been surprised and attacked 
a few nights earlier he made a long halt and listened. 
Then he again advanced noiselessly, and always keep- 
ing in deepest shadows, to where he had left his lodge. 
To his amazement it stood still, and, so far as he could 
discover, none of its few contents had been removed 
or even handled. This was so encouraging that he was 
76 


SCALPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD 77 

tempted to go for a look at his precious cache, and here 
he found further cause for satisfaction, it, too, proving 
to be unmolested. 

As the man turned from it, with the intention of 
going back to the gorge after the precious property left 
there, his heart sank like lead, for he was confronted 
by a human figure, with leveled rifle pointing directly 
at him. Although he knew the movement could not 
save him, he involuntarily leaped to one side; where- 
upon the menacing figure uttered a low laugh and said : 

It is, indeed, my friend the Wolf-Killer. I was 
almost sure, but not quite.” 

Whew, boy ! What a start you gave me ! ” 
gasped the other, wiping the cold sweat from his fore- 
head as he spoke. I’ve been jumped once by hostiles, 
and seeing you stand there, with the drop on me, gave 
the impression that they were after me again.” 

“ Yes,” replied Peninah gravely. I know. They 
are Sioux, but five days ago they left the Land of Great 
Smoke. Also they found and followed the trail of 
Peninah to the Kiver of Beavers, but they did not 
make fight with us, or even show themselves, for my 
young men watched without sleeping. After a time we 
slipped away from them and returned to this place 
without their knowledge. Therefore, it is to be be- 
lieved that they have gone to their own country; but 
one can never surely know, and so I have come for my 
friend, that we may with all speed depart from this 


78 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


place of danger. Even now are my young men wait- 
ing and impatient to be making the trail. Is my 
brother ready to go ? 

Why, no, Peninah, I can’t say that I am,” replied 
the other. You promised me a full day’s notice, you 
remember, and there are several pretty important things 
to be done before I can get away. That is, if you want 
to carry with you the finest white buffalo skin ever seen 
in a medicine lodge.” 

Has my brother, then, got that for which we 
came ? ” inquired the young Indian eagerly. 

Certainly I have, and it’s a beauty, too. Also it 
is well cured; only it ought to be rubbed thoroughly 
with alum before it is exposed to sunlight. Otherwise 
I am afraid the hair will come out. That’s one thing 
I wanted a day for. Another is that I have left my 
buffalo hunter, Don Felix, you know, in a place from 
which it will take me some time to get him. My rifle, 
too; but if you will excuse me for about five minutes, 
I’ll get that at once, for you slipping up on me as you 
did has proved to me how careless I was to be without 
it a single minute. Just you wait near the lodge until 
I come back.” 

With this the speaker hurried away toward the 
gorge, intending to recover his rifle and ammunition 
before the purifying air blast should fail; but, to his 
dismay, he was too late. With the waning of night it 
had died down, until it was barely perceptible, and he 


SCALPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD 


79 


knew that already the deadly gases had so risen above 
his treasures that he might not recover them except at 
a risk that he did not care to take. So he returned 
empty-handed to the lodge, where Peninah awaited him. 

You see I didn’t get them,” he said, and I can’t 
before the coming of another night. I^or can I catch 
Don Felix before that time. So we’ll have to wait.” 

Perhaps it is not worth while,” replied Peninah. 

Is that the skin of the white buffalo ? ” 

Here the speaker pointed to a vague bundle on the 
floor of the lodge that was just becoming visible in the 
early dawn. 

Yes, that is what we came for, and I want you 
to tell me if ever you saw a prettier.” 

With this, Wicasta brought the skin outside into 
the growing light and unrolled it. 

The ordinary so-called white buffalo is of a dirty 
gray, and only white by contrast with his fellows ; while 
the skin now displayed to Peninah’s astonished gaze, 
though holding a decided tinge of yellow, was so much 
whiter than any he ever had seen as to draw forth an 
exclamation of delighted amazement. 

It is wonderful ! ” he cried. Hever have the 
Aricarees been possessed of a medicine so strong as this. 
But we must get it to our village with all speed. So 
precious is it that we may not delay for an hour, not 
even for Don Felix or your rifle. They easily can be 
replaced, but such a skin as this is worth more beavers 


80 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


than could be piled in all the Aricaree lodges. Let us, 
then, take it and go away, leaving all else.” 

‘‘But the alum?” objected the other. “Without 
a rubbing of alum for the present, and a subsequent 
soaking in alum water, it is in danger of spoiling, as I 
have warned you. I know where alum exists in plenty, 
and within half an hour I can fetch an ample quantity. 
If you will go and hunt up my pack ponies while I am 
getting it, then will we save time, and by sunrise, or 
shortly after, we can be off.” 

To this plan Peninah agreed; and while his friend 
set forth in one direction, he went in another. Por 
some time he searched diligently, without finding a 
trace of the missing animals. Then, all at once, he 
came upon a place so full of sign that its news was as 
thrilling as that of a newspaper bulletin in war time. 
Sioux had been there, a half-dozen of them, within an 
hour. Moreover, they were of the party that recently 
had trailed the Aricarees to the river of beavers. How 
they had once more entered the Land of Great Smoke, 
but from a new direction. Evidently they had been 
scouting in the direction of Wicasta’s camp, when they 
discovered his ponies and appropriated them. Two of 
the number had ridden hastily away on the stolen ani- 
mals, while the others had gone in a different direction. 

With all this information, obtained during a few 
minutes of intense scrutiny of the abounding sign upon 
'V^^hich he had stumbled, Peninah set forth at full speed 


SCALPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD 


81 


in the direction taken by the four warriors who re- 
mained on foot. His heart was heavy with the fear 
that their course would intercept that of the friend 
whom he had allowed to go on an errand alone and 
unarmed. 

Hor were the young Indian’s fears unfounded, for 
ere he had gone a mile he caught a glimpse of those 
whom he was following creeping with the stealth of 
serpents toward a solitary figure, that, unsuspicious of 
danger and with his back to them, was scraping up the 
crystalline deposits of an alum spring. Hot only were 
the Sioux warriors advancing upon their victim, but 
they had gained striking distance ; for, even as Peninah 
caught sight of them, one of their number leaped for- 
ward, plunged a knife into the white man’s back, 
stooped over him, and directly afterward held aloft a 
dripping scalp of long brown hair. The murderer’s 
fierce yell of triumph was also his death cry, for ere it 
was half-uttered it was echoed by a rifle shot from the 
forest, and the Sioux who had scalped Wicasta pitched 
lifeless across the body of his victim. 

Barely pausing to note the effect of his vengeful 
shot, Peninah ran with the speed of a deer toward the 
lodge of his friend whose melancholy fate he had just 
witnessed and avenged. He must run, for his rifle was 
empty, and even were it loaded, he knew he would be 
no match for the three powerful warriors already hot 
upon his trail. He could not help his friend by re- 


82 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


maining a single second longer, for lie knew Wicasta 
to be beyond human aid. Had be not with bis own eyes 
seen bim killed and scalped ? There could be no better 
proof that tbe friend, for whom be would gladly bave 
laid down bis own life, no longer bad need of bim. But 
there were others who did stand in urgent need of bis 
counsel and aid. Tbe young warriors who bad followed 
bis lead into that land of death and terror were, by bis 
order, awaiting bis coming, unsuspicious of danger, 
and to them be owed bis first duty. 

Also there was another thing, perhaps tbe most im- 
portant of all. His expedition bad been made to obtain 
for bis people tbe greatly desired skin of a white buf- 
falo. Tbe priceless trophy had been found. He bad 
seen it and bad held it in bis bands. It bad been left 
in tbe lodge of Wicasta, where doubtless it still lay 
awaiting an owner. Peninab bad not the heart to 
abandon this greatest of prizes without an effort toward 
its recovery, and it was this thought that turned bis 
fiying steps in tbe direction they now took. 

At length he reached tbe lodge. All was quiet and 
as before. There was no sign of an enemy. A momen- 
tary pause for reassurance, and then Peninab stood 
within tbe slight structure. A single sweeping glance 
was enough to show that be had come too late. Others 
bad been there before bim, and tbe treasure was gone. 
He remembered tbe exact spot where tbe rolled-up skin 
bad lain, and now that spot was vacant. Also other 


SCALPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD 


83 


things had been taken; in fact, the lodge was stripped 
to emptiness. 

So instantly was all this made known to the young 
warrior that he was not within the lodge a second be- 
fore he was out again and speeding over the trail that 
led away from this fatal Land of Great Smoke. If 
only he could rejoin his own band in time to set a trap 
for the murderers and thieves who so were upsetting 
his plans, there was a chance that he might recover the 
sacred talisman, and win a victory that, in spite of the 
loss of Wicasta, would still insure him a triumphant 
welcome to the distant village of his people. 

But even this faint hope was dashed when he came 
to the place where he had left his young men, and it 
was plain that the luck of the white buffalo remained 
with those who possessed its skin. The place in which 
they had waited was empty, and there was plentiful 
sign that his warriors had been driven from it by a 
superior force of Sioux, who had followed in eager 
pursuit. 

Late that night, or rather just before dawn of the 
next morning, Peninah wriggled his lithe body into the 
very camp of his enemies, where he snatched a scalp, 
stole a horse, and was riding madly away before his 
presence became known. That same day he rejoined 
his own party, and was hailed by them as one risen 
from the dead. 

From that time on, a running fight was maintained 


I 


84 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


with the Sioux war party for hundreds of miles, with- 
out either side obtaining any great advantage over the 
other. Then the Dakotah disappeared, and the harassed 
Aricarees were allowed to pursue their homeward way 
in peace. 

As they had lost more than they had gained, hav- 
ing left behind them the most powerful medicine man 
the tribe had ever known, besides the white buffalo 
skin that at one time actually had been in their pos- 
session, they were forced to enter the village with 
blackened faces and amid a sorrowful silence. Only 
from a nearby eminence rose the lamentations of Koda, 
the wife of Wicasta, and of the women friends who 
lent their voices to aid her mourning. 

The downcast warriors had broken their orderly 
rank, and were dispersing each to his own lodge, when 
of a sudden a shrill clamor rose from the heart of the 
village. The squaw of Bear Tooth, the long-absent 
medicine man, was excitedly pointing to the horse from 
which Peninah had just dismounted, and claiming it 
as the one ridden by her man when last she saw him. 
Moreover, an ever-increasing throng of witnesses were 
raising their voices in corroboration of her claim. 


CHAPTEE X 


AN OVEELOOKED FEIEND 

WiCASTA had been struck down in the early morn- 
ing, and during the whole of that long summer^s day, 
amid the brooding silence of the wilderness, his muti- 
lated body lay motionless where it had fallen. It was 
somewhat protected, from the direct rays of the sun by 
the form of the Sioux warrior whose moment of sav- 
age triumph had been cut short by Peninah^s vengeful 
bullet. In one rigid hand the Indian still clutched a 
keen-bladed knife ; but the bloody trophy, for which he 
had paid so dearly, had been snatched from him and 
carried off by one of his own comrades. So the bodies 
lay until sunset brought a refreshing coolness to the 
air. Then occurred a miracle. Erom the one lying 
undermost came a faint, sighing breath and a feeble 
movement, as though it strove to release itself from the 
burden by which it was weighted. But its strength was 
not equal to the task, and again it lay still. 

Xow arrived certain night prowlers of the wild in 
search of food, and attracted by the scent of blood. At 
first they circled and sniffed suspiciously ; then, becom- 
ing bolder, they began snapping and tearing at the 
uppermost body. Finally they dragged it clear of the 
85 


86 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


other, and directly afterward they were treated to a 
spectacle that reduced their snarlings to a momentary 
silence. Half-terrified, half-curious, they stared with 
red eyes, while he who for so long had lain in the sem- 
blance of death slowly struggled into a sitting posture, 
which he supported with trembling arms, outstretched. 
He was weak as a babe, and dazed beyond comprehen- 
sion of what had befallen. His slightest movement was 
accompanied by excruciating pains, and he felt that his 
head was covered with glowing coals, slow-burning their 
way into his sluggish brain. Also he was consumed by 
a thirst so intense that, at that moment, he gladly would 
have exchanged anything a human being may possess 
for a cup of water. 

For a full minute he remained so motionless that 
the beasts, momentarily cowed by the coming to life of 
a man, their master, fell again, with low growls and 
snarlings, upon their interrupted feast. So close were 
they to him that their fetid breath was in his nostrils. 
To escape it he began, feebly and with infinite pain, to 
crawl away. Very slowly he moved, inch by inch, and 
without regard to direction, only vaguely he longed for 
a breath of untainted air. Of a sudden there came to 
his dulled ears a sound that to him was heavenly music, 
the rippling tinkle of running water. 

Instantly was the poor wretch nerved to increased 
effort, and a moment later, with head plunged into a 
crystal flood, he was drinking, drinking as though he 


AN OVERLOOKED FRIEND 


87 


never would stop, while the life-giving fluid penetrated 
to every fiber of his body. Only the necessity for 
breathing caused him to withdraw his head from those 
delicious waters. It mattered nothing to him that they 
were so impregnated with alum as to he well-nigh un- 
drinkable under ordinary conditions. They were giv- 
ing back to him his life, and that was sufficient. So 
he drank of them and bathed his wounds, and received 
accession of strength with each passing moment, until 
he even contemplated the prodigious feat of standing 
upright. 

It took him several minutes to accomplish this 
task, but finally he succeeded, and his savage neighbors 
were so impressed that they suspended their feasting 
once more, and, slinking to a short distance, watched 
with growling apprehension to see what he would do 
next. 

What he did do was to walk away from them, very 
slowly and with quick gasps of pain, but with an in- 
stinct for direction that finally, after what seemed to 
his tortured senses years of desperate effort, led him to 
the lodge in which he had parted from Peninah. He 
would have been disappointed at his friend’s absence 
had his sufferings allowed the sensation, but they did 
not, and sinking to the earthen floor, he promptly fell 
into the merciful insensibility of sleep. 

When next the man awoke another day had come 
and the sun was shining brightly from a height gained 


88 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


by several hours of climbing. He was horribly stiff, 
and movement was painful beyond words. What he 
needed was a soft bed and clean linen, the most careful 
handling and the devoted attention of nurses trained to 
firm gentleness, cooling drinks and nourishing food 
appetizingly prepared, the skilled dressing of his 
wounds, absolute rest, and to have his thoughts diverted 
from himself. What he had was nothing, beyond the 
bare fact that he was alive. He must think of himself 
and for himself; whatever was to be done for him, he 
must do it. Tor a time he lay still, hoping against 
hope that Peninah would come ; but after a while even 
this slight hope faded, and he knew that he was left 
alone in a boundless wilderness to live or die, accord- 
ing to the "limits of his own resources. All at once it 
occurred to him why this was so. 

I am dead,” he said to himself. That is, I was 
dead, and so Peninah left me. How I have come to 
life, but he does not know it. How was I killed ? It 
must have been by a knife-thrust in the back, for, 
though I can^t see the place, that is what it feels like. 
I wonder ” 

Here the speaker’s meditations were formulated in 
medical terms, which we will not attempt to reproduce ; 
but while he was diagnosing his own case, he suddenly 
became conscious of that other wound on his head, and 
lifted a hand to feel of it. As he did so, an expression 
of horror overspread his face. 


AN OVERLOOKED FRIEND 


89 


I have been scalped ! ” he cried aloud. ]^ot 
only killed, but scalped ! Now am I outcast forever. 
Now am I indeed dead, so far as intercourse with the 
living is concerned. No wonder Peninah left me ! No 
wonder neither he nor any of the others came hack to 
look after me ! What am I to do ? What am I to do ? 
Never again will the village receive me. Never again 
will one of its inmates speak to me! Even Peninah 
must refuse to do so; and Koda, my wife, would turn 
from me with horror. If I were to he seen, every hand 
would be lifted against me. I should be killed and 
thrown out like the vilest of dogs. It is the law, the 
law of the Aricaree which is enforced more certainly 
than any other. Often have I heard it discussed. Well 
do I know its terms. Even Hanana, my darling, my 
own, will be taught to shudder at thought of the mon- 
ster who once was her father. Better that I had died. 
Better that I die now than attempt to live, a scalpless 
outcast ! 

“From my own race I cut myself off by my own 
act, and now am I equally cut off from the people of 
my adoption by no act of mine, but by a fate as cruel 
and unchangeable as the laws of Heaven. Woe is me 1 
that I, Arnold Knighton, should have sunk to so low 
a depth. Arnold Knighton, of Harvard; Dr. Arnold 
Knighton, of Boston; Arnold Knighton, traitor to 
friendship; Wicasta, the Wolf-Killer; Wicasta, the 
great white medicine man of the Aricarees; Wicasta, 


90 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


father of Hanana; now the outcast warrior, scalpless 
and nameless; a thing of horror, to be dreaded and 
shunned hj all men; to be destroyed at the first op- 
portunity like any other vermin; the bottommost dreg 
of humanity. O God! It is too much! It is un- 
bearable ! ” 

In these terrible reflections Arnold Knighton was 
not overstating the terms of the situation to which he 
had been reduced. From prehistoric times, among the 
American Indians, the trophy of hair known as the 
scalp has been held in higher esteem than life itself. 
Among certain tribes, by way of taunting defiance to 
an enemy, the head of the warrior was carefully de- 
nuded of all hair except the single tuft termed the 
scalp-lock, which was decorated and cared for as the 
owner^s chiefest possession. To take or lose a scalp was 
of far greater moment than the taking or losing of life. 
Ko youth could be counted a man, much less a warrior, 
until he had torn at least one of these bleeding tro- 
phies from the head of an enemy. It was his patent 
of knighthood, his diploma, his commission, his reward 
for great merit, to be treasured and displayed upon 
occasion through all subsequent life, and finally to be 
buried with him as a passport to immortality. 

On the other hand, among many tribes, and espe- 
cially among certain of those dwelling west of the 
Mississippi, the greatest calamity that could befall a 
warrior was the loss of his scalp. Did he lose it to- 


AN OVERLOOKED FRIEND 


91 


gether with his life, not only was his spirit debarred 
from the Happy Hunting Grounds of his people, but it 
must serve as a slave the spirit of him who by captur- 
ing the scalp had proved himself master. Even worse 
was the fate of the unfortunate who lost his scalp with- 
out at the same time forfeiting his life. Ho matter 
how great had been his prowess or how bravely he had 
striven in battle, with the loss of his scalp he had lost 
everything. Ho longer was he regarded as a human 
being, but as a ghost to be shunned by the living, who 
might not even look upon him without incurring the 
direst misfortunes. This was the law of the Aricarees, 
together with many others of the tribes of the plains; 
and in such doleful plight did he, known as Wicasta, 
now find himself. 

So great was the mental agony following the dis- 
covery of his condition that it completely exhausted the 
man’s slender store of strength, his senses reeled, and 
once more he sank into a state of unconsciousness. 
While his body thus lay to all appearance lifeless, his 
spirit traversed vast spaces, and in pleasant company. 
Thus once more he was with his parents and the friends 
of his youth. Again he was winning a victorious way 
through college. The girl he had loved smiled upon 
him, and with her stood Everett Wester, also smiling, 
as though his life had been readjusted to a plane of 
true happiness. Peninah and the new-made friends of 
later years gathered about him, their faces shining with 


92 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


gladness; and last of all, but of greatest joj, came to 
him the child Hanana. Her baby hand clung tightly 
to his, and her blue eyes were fixed upon his face with 
an expression of perfect love. He held her in his arms, 
and her tiny fingers stroked his face. She kissed him, 
and at the touch of her lips the man who had prayed 
for death gradually became conscious that he was wak- 
ing to a new life. 

Although it was not yet night the sun was low, and 
the interior of the lodge was so dim that for some mo- 
ments he could not make out what it was looming 
hugely above him. A touch as of velvet was on his 
face, but it was warm with life, and a hot breath min- 
gled with his. He outstretched a hand, and the motion 
was answered by the joyful whinny of a horse who had 
at length found a dearly loved but long-lost master. 
One friend, overlooked in the man’s anguish, remained 
steadfast, recognizing no change in the conditions of 
their friendship. 


CHAPTEE XI 


BUILDING A HOUSE WITHOUT TOOLS 

Thus it happened that; through great tribulation, 
Arnold Knighton was saved. His spirit, communing 
through a dream with the spirit of Hanana, had aroused 
a desire for life, and at the same time had reminded 
him that there still was much to live for. Having lost 
everything, he now had everything to gain. He had 
conceived himself friendless, and so had yielded to de- 
spair when, at that very moment, there came to him 
one of the truest friends a man can have. To find his 
master Don Eelix had braved, alone, the terrors, he so 
fully appreciated, of the gorge. Without his gentle but 
persistent nosings it is doubtful if the man ever would 
have awakened from his sleep of despair. He had 
yielded to it with a willingness, and even a desire, to 
die; he awoke from it filled with the determination 
to live. 

To begin with, he must have water, for again he 
was parched and consumed with intolerable thirst. 
Attempting to rise, he found that he could not, even 
to save his life, so stiff was he and so exquisite was the 
pain of the effort. Thus, like all the newly born, he 
93 


94 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


was again forced to creep on hands and knees, with 
much pain and frequent pauses for rest; hut finally he 
gained the blessed spring near which his lodge was 
pitched. Don Felix accompanied him, greatly puzzled 
by his master’s strange method of progression, hut well 
content to have him once more alive and in motion. 

Together they drank of the cool waters, and with 
each swallow the man could feel new life throbbing 
through his veins. He drank and bathed his wounds, 
and drank again. Then he realized that not only was 
he faint and weak from loss of blood, but from star- 
vation. He had no idea what length of time had 
elapsed since his last meal, but believed it to be sev- 
eral days, and even now he could think of no way for 
procuring food. There was none in the lodge, and he 
had not the strength to hunt game, even were he armed, 
which he was not, his rifie still remaining in the gorge. 
He recalled that in his cache were a few food luxuries 
sealed in tin; but, in his present weakness, he might 
as well attempt the capture of a buffalo bull as the ob- 
taining of provisions from that distant and securely 
fastened hiding place. Certainly starvation stared him 
in the face, confidently and with leering impudence, as 
though it said: 

I’ve got you this time, my friend, and you can’t 
discover a loophole of escape.” 

As the man sorrowfully admitted the truth of this 
statement, starvation slyly suggested; 


BUILDING A HOUSE WITHOUT TOOLS 


95 


Unless you choose to sacrifice your horse ; with 
your knife you might manage to kill him, and horse- 
flesh isn’t at all bad eating, especially when one is as 
hungry as you are.” 

This suggestion was so shocking that, had it come 
from another person, the starving man would have re- 
sented it with bitter words. As it was, he simply 
glanced at the animal’s well-covered ribs, and sighed 
enviously. Don Felix still was saddled and bridled, 
and as his master looked up at him he lowered his head 
inquiringly. The bridle-rein came within Knighton’s 
reach, and, aided by it, he struggled to his feet. While, 
in his weakness, he clung to the horse’s neck, the latter 
thrust his head across the man’s shoulder, and they 
rubbed cheeks. 

It was a cowardly thought ! ” exclaimed Knigh- 
ton, and if I had any blood left I should be red with 
shame. You dear, splendid horse ! I would rather die 
any sort of death than attempt to save my wretched 
life at the expense of yours. Ko, sir! you are my 
friend; at present my only friend, and men worthy of 
the name don’t eat their friends. If only I could get 
on your hack, I’d — What’s that! Kot the package 
of meat that I made fast to your saddle in the valley ? 
It is, though, and starvation is fairly whipped at his 
own game. Don Felix, you are an angel of light, and 
if ever a man had a truer friend in time of need, his- 
tory has failed to record his name.” 


96 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Even as he spoke, Knighton cut loose the precious 
package of food with the knife that still remained in 
his belt, and it fell to the ground. Also he managed 
to relieve Don Felix of his bridle, whereupon the horse, 
as though no longer on duty, walked away in search of 
pasturage. 

The man had a few precious matches in a water- 
tight case, and there was an abundance of fire-making 
material close at hand. Thus, within a few minutes, 
he was toasting, or rather scorching, in a clear fiame, 
a thin strip of meat wrapped about a green stick. He 
ate this ravenously, and felt stronger. While so doing 
he had other strips toasting, and by the end of an hour 
after the presentation of Don Felix’s princely gift he 
had made a square meal,” that, in its beneficial effects, 
recalled the first one given him by Peninah, nearly 
three years earlier, at the wood-yard on Fat Cow Creek. 

From certain portions of the meat he managed to 
extract a small quantity of tallow, which he melted and 
applied to his wounds. Then he slept; and for a week 
thereafter this simple program of eating and sleeping 
was unvaried. 

At the end of that week, thanks to his splendid con- 
stitution and simple habits, the life-giving air that he 
inhaled with every breath, and his own power of will, 
he was well on the road to recovery, with a portion of 
his strength already restored. 

As soon as he was able to mount Don Felix he rode 


BUILDING A HOUSE WITHOUT TOOLS 


97 


to the place where he had been left for dead, and there, 
within a few paces of the alum spring, he found the 
clean-picked bones of the Indian who had scalped him. 
He looked in vain for the scalp itself, nor could he 
discover by what means his enemy had met death. He 
did, however, find the knife by which his own injuries 
had been infiicted, and he put it carefully away as the 
first hit of property acquired during his new life. 
Heavy rains having fallen and obliterated all trails, he 
could not learn what had become either of his friends 
or his foes ; only it was evident that both had departed 
and that he was left alone in the Land of Great Smoke. 

It was hard to become reconciled to a life of utter 
loneliness, and for a time he rebelled against the fate 
that had cut him off from his fellows. He knew that 
no tribe of Indians would receive a scalpless warrior, 
and he doubted if even the wandering trappers of the 
mountains would give him welcome, so completely had 
most of them adopted the Indians’ habit of thought, 
together with their mode of living. Ho, there was no 
place for him among men short of the eastern bank of 
the Mississippi, and that was a part of the world that 
he might not visit for years to come. 

If he lived, he hoped some time in the future to 
return again to the scenes of his boyhood and mingle 
once more with people of his own kind ; but years must 
elapse first, and in them was much to be done. Already 
he had laid plans, wide and far-reaching, which, if he 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


could carry them out; would fill the coming years with 
useful activities, combined with much of happiness. 
Perhaps, too, they would not be years of such loneli- 
ness as was now promised. If only he could carry out 
his plans! 

For the present he must remain where he was, since 
in all the world there was no other place in which he 
might receive a friendly welcome. Already summer 
was spent and the chill winds of autumn were blow- 
ing. In that region of high altitudes winter would 
come quickly, and he had short time to prepare for it. 

In casting about for a location for a permanent 
camp, he had decided that, in spite of the dangerous 
approach to the Valley of Mystery, it was the most de- 
sirable place in all that region for his purpose. It was 
well-sheltered, well-stocked with game, and its very 
dangers assured its safety as a place of residence. So 
to the Valley of Mystery he began to remove his effects 
the moment his strength would permit. As he could 
work only at night, and on such nights as the air blast 
drew strongly through the gorge, it was a tedious task 
to transport his lodge and the contents of his cache to 
the new location. Also, as there now was no moon, the 
difficulties were greatly increased by the darkness in 
which he was forced to work. But for Don Felix — not 
only as a beast of burden, but as guide through the 
inky blackness of the gorge — Arnold Knighton’s camp 
probably would have remained where it was, and he 


BUILDING A HOUSE WITHOUT TOOLS 99 

would have stood a dozen chances of being wiped 
out ” before the end of winter. With the invaluable 
aid of his horse, the task finally was accomplished, and 
his lodge was set up under the tree that had sheltered 
him on his first visit to the valley. Of course, long 
before this he had secured the rifie and ammunition 
that kindly fortune had caused him to leave in the 
open, offering a well-nigh irresistible temptation to the 
cupidity of any who might chance that way, and yet 
absolutely protected from molestation by a human being 
besides himself. 

To prepare a place in which he and his belongings 
might find shelter during the storms and cold of win- 
ter was a great undertaking. His time was short, he 
was inexperienced, he had no tools, and while he 
worked he must procure and prepare his own food. In 
spite of all this, before the streams froze solid he had 
accomplished the task, and was the proud owner of a 
commodious, weather-proof residence, steam-heated and 
provided with running water, hot and cold, as well as 
with an open fire. To be sure it had neither gas nor 
electricity, but then its owner did not approve of the 
former on the score of health, while the latter had not 
yet been introduced for house-lighting purposes. 

This wonderful construction was partly a dugout 
excavated from the side of a hill and partly built of 
sods piled one on top of another so as to make walls 
six feet high and eighteen inches thick. The roof was 


100 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


of poles, bark, sods, and earth. Issuing from the hill 
was a hot spring of unfailing supply and steady habits. 
It was not an explosive, geyser-like eruption, doing 
startling stunts at unexpected moments, but simply a 
quiet flow of hot water, apparently provided for just 
such an emergency as had arisen. By means of a ditch 
a portion of its overflow was so directed as to run 
through the new house, where it passed beneath a pave- 
ment of flat stones. Having thus provided Sod Cas- 
tle ” with steam heat and hot water, the builder became 
so ambitious of further luxuries that he opened another 
ditch, nearly a quarter of a mile long, through which 
to conduct a stream of cold water. Also he dug in the 
hillside a flreplace, lined it with the same flat stones 
that paved his floor, and topped it with a little chimney 
of sticks and clay. 

To accomplish all this digging and excavation 
Knighton had made hoes of elk shoulder blades, like 
those used by Aricaree women, and a wooden pick, with 
its sharpened point hardened by Are. What wouldnT 
he have given for an ax, a saw, a hammer, and some 
nails ? But,” as he philosophically remarked to him- 
self, the possession of such luxuries would only cause 
me to long for others, and so on indeflnitely, until self- 
reliance became merged in utter dependence upon the 
handiwork of someone else.” 

Thus thinking, he whittled wooden pegs for nails, 
used a stone hammer, and helped out his hunting knife 


BUILDING A HOUSE WITHOUT TOOLS 101 

with fire in place of an ax. His most difficult piece 
of construction was a door, and it was especially for 
this that he wanted a saw. Hot having one, he made 
of interwoven willows a basket-work door, which he 
afterward covered with buffalo hide. It was the pro- 
curing of this hide that took him out of his valley for 
the first time since he had sought its asylum, and it 
was while thus engaged that he acquired an ax, to say 
nothing of many other things. 


CHAPTEE XII 


A CHEERFUL, EED-HEADED FIGHTEE 

Xever had Arnold Knighton so felt his loneliness 
or so longed for human companionship as while on that 
buffalo hunt in the Land of Great Smoke. In his val- 
ley he had realized that there was no chance of encoun- 
tering another human being, and, besides, he had been 
so busy over his house-building that he found little 
time for thinking of anything else. Xow, in the outer 
world of people he experienced a keen disappointment 
at not meeting, or at least seeing, some of them. He 
knew that if he did run across any parties of red hunt- 
ers he should carefully avoid them, while he had not 
the slightest hope of meeting with white men in this 
remote region which he believed known only to Indians. 
For all this he found himself searching for indications 
of human presence wistfully, and much more earnestly 
than he did for game. 

So plentiful were buffalo in the warm valleys of 
that region that to kill them, when mounted on such a 
famous hunter as Don Felix, was one of the easiest 
things in the world. Thus, on his first day out, Knigh- 
ton secured three, which were as many as he could care 
102 


A CHEERFUL, RED-HEADED FIGHTER 103 


foi’ and utilize. At the end of two more days the skins 
of these animals, together with the meat of a fat young 
cow, had been removed to the valley, while the remain- 
ing products of the hunt were safely deposited in his 
old cache near the gorge entrance, l^ow there was no 
reason why the hunter should not return to the safety 
and comforts of Sod Castle. He need not even wait 
for night and the protecting air blast, since by this 
time Don Felix had learned to carry his head as high 
as possible while traversing the pathway of bones. But 
the loneliness of the valley appalled the man. In com- 
parison with it a prison would be a place of cheerful 
companionship. As for its safety! Yes, of course it 
was safe enough, but just now safety did not appeal 
to this strong builder of castles and hunter of buffalo 
as it had to the nervous, recently scalped invalid, who 
had gratefully sought the protection of the valley some 
three months earlier. So, as he sat beside a small fire, 
over which he had just cooked his dinner, the lonely 
man pulled disconsolately at a very black pipe and 
thought unkind things about his valley. 

Wliy had he been such a fool as to select it as a 
place of winter residence when, as he now knew, the 
outside world was so much pleasanter? Of course, it 
was too late now to make a change, and there was noth- 
ing to be done but crawl back into that dreary prison, 
where he would be buried, like a woodchuck in a hole, 
until spring. But he would not be driven in until he 


104 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


was good and ready to go, that was certain; and for 
the present he chose to remain where he was. Hello! 
What was that, a far-away rifle shot? It couldn’t he! 
Yes, it could, for there was another, and another. The 
world seemed to be coming his way after all, and per- 
haps it would be a good idea to meet it on the road. 

In another minute Knighton had saddled Don 
Felix and was riding furiously in the direction of the 
shots that still sounded at intervals. Were they fired 
by red men or white ? Was it a hunt or a fight ? These 
questions repeated themselves over and over in the 
man’s brain as he hastened to demand a share in what- 
ever part of the world’s work his unknown neighbors 
were engaged upon. 

With all his eagerness, he had not wholly lost his 
prudence; and when he came within the sound of yell- 
ing voices he halted, left his horse in a clump of cedars, 
and began a reconnoissance on foot. A few minutes 
later he had topped a hog-back ” ridge and was peer- 
ing cautiously down on a scene of startling interest. 
At the bottom of a narrow pass, directly beneath him, 
were Indian horsemen, how many he could not tell, 
dashing madly to and fro and yelling like fiends. At 
first Knighton could not discover what they were doing 
or trying to do. Then a rifle rang out from a place 
that he could not see, and following it came a laugh 
and the sound of a voice, rich with the brogue of old 
Ireland : 


A CHEERFUL, RED-HEADED FIGHTER 105 


Hooroo, ye red divils ! it cried. There’s one 
more of yez gone, and I’m by no manes troo wid yez 
yet. Pass up the guns, b’ys. Do yez kape loading as 
fast as I kape shooting, and we’ll clane out the whole 
murtherin’ crowd before they know what’s happened 
them.” 

White men ! ” was Knighton’s mental exclama- 
tion. Evidently in such desperate plight that they 
have gone crazy. If only I could help them out of 
their fix, and get them into the valley, what a different 
aspect the place would put on. I believe it will pay 
to try, and a bold bluff may work wonders. At any 
rate, company is worth fighting for, so here goes.” 

With these reflections flashing through his mind, 
Knighton was running down the steep way he had just 
climbed, and within a couple of minutes he reached 
the place where Don Felix awaited him. In another 
moment he was on the back of the impatient stallion, 
speeding like the wind toward the point where at least 
one white man was shouting cheerful defiance to a 
horde of painted scalp hunters. 

Among Arnold Knighton’s choicest possessions was 
a big army revolver, a weapon which, in one shape or 
another, dating back to the fifteenth century and made 
practical by Colonel Colt in 1835, still was a rarity to 
the Western plains. Knighton had procured this one 
from a trader who visited the Aricaree village just as 
Peninah’s expedition was about to start for the Land 
8 


106 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


of Great Smoke, and had paid for it an incredible 
number of beaver skins. In those days the metallic 
cartridge bad not yet been invented, and though a poor 
substitute encased in paper was in use, even these bad 
not been procurable among the Aricarees. So each of 
the six chambers of this revolver bad to be loaded sepa- 
rately with powder and ball, while the six nipples were 
covered by as many percussion caps. As it thus took 
six times as long to load a revolver as it did a rifle, the 
weapon was not very popular, and Knighton bad used 
his for the first time during his recent buffalo bunt. 
Then be bad cleaned it, reloaded it for an emergency; 
and within an hour the emergency had arisen. 

Kow, as be rode, he drew this gun from its bolster 
and looked to see that all its caps were in place. Even 
as he did so Don Felix swept into the pass and charged 
with thunderous hoofs upon a score of Indians who, 
gathered just out of rifle range, were making ready for 
another rush past the place they were besieging. 

For a moment the startled warriors stared at the 
apparition of a fierce black horse, hearing a frightful 
figure clad in wolf skins, and apparently huge beyond 
anything human, bursting upon them like a bolt from 
a clear sky. For a moment only did they stare; then, 
panic-stricken and scourged by a torrent of bullets from 
a gun of such magic that it needed no reloading, they 
fled like so many scared rabbits. Past the white man 
whom they had regarded as their certain prey they 


A CHEERFUL, RED-HEADED FIGHTER 107 


scampered without discharging a single arrow, lying 
low on their ponies’ necks and urging them to frantic 
speed. Then they vanished as though the earth had 
swallowed them, and only a weird echo of clattering 
hoofs seemed to come from the upper air. 

Knighton could not at once check his headlong 
speed, but he yelled a cheery encouragement as he flew 
past the scene of battle, and a hat was waved in reply, 
while a voice, so faint that it barely reached him, ex- 
claimed : • 

Glory be ! It’s a white man ! ” 

The moment Don Pelix could be persuaded that the 
chase was ended he was headed back to where his rider 
had caught a confused glimpse of men and horses. The 
place was a rocky alcove in one side of the pass, shielded 
from attack at all points except directly in front. Here 
it was barricaded by the bodies of several horses which 
were stuck as full of arrows as a porcupine is of quills. 
Kiding up to this barrier, Knighton called out: 

Hello, inside ! Why don’t you show yourselves ? ” 
His only answer was an absolute silence, made 
doubly impressive by the recent turmoil. 

Queer ! ” muttered Knighton. “ I would have 
sworn that I saw a hat wave and heard a voice as I 
rode past.” 

Don Felix was so excited by the smell of blood that 
he could not be persuaded near enough for his rider to 
see over the dead animals. So the latter Anally dis- 


108 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


mounted, made his horse fast to a tree, and returned to 
the place on foot. Clambering over the barricade, he 
was confronted hj the sight of three human bodies 
lying in pools of blood. N’o other person was to be 
seen, and he was more than ever puzzled to account for 
the voice and waving hat of a few minutes before. At 
the back of the alcove he found a mule, alive and with 
a pack still on her back. She had been hoppled and 
thrown, so that she now lay helpless on her side. Cut- 
ting this animal loose, and finding no other sign of 
life, the mystified man returned to the three bodies and 
began an examination. They evidently were those of 
mountain men ” or Free Trappers,’’ so called to 
distinguish them from the employees of the great fur- 
trading companies — The Hudson’s Bay, The Northwest, 
and The American. All were clad in buckskin, and 
two of them wore fur caps. These two were rigid and 
evidently had been dead for some time. The third body 
was that of a young fellow, almost small enough to be 
classed as a dwarf, whose red head was uncovered. 
This body, though bleeding from many wounds, still 
was warm with life, and beside it lay an old felt hat. 

This, then, is the chap who waved,” soliloquized 
Arnold Knighton, and evidently the effort exhausted 
his last remnant of strength. But he is worth saving, 
and I must get him out of here in a hurry, for the 
reds’ll be back pretty quick to see what has happened. 
They won’t run far after they get over their first fright 


A CHEERFUL, RED-HEADED FIGHTER 109 


and find that no one is after them. As for these other 
poor fellows, they are too dead for anything else to 
matter, and I shall have to leave them as they are.’’ 

The pack mule had scrambled to her feet, and now 
stood gravely regarding the stranger who seemed to 
have taken charge. To her pack Knighton added such 
things of value as came readily to hand, including guns 
and knives. Then he led her to where Don Eelix was 
tied. To this place also he brought the limp body of 
the red-headed young chap, and lost several precious 
minutes in persuading his horse to receive the blood- 
tainted burden. 

Knighton knew that every moment was precious, 
and while he strove with the stallion’s obstinacy he also 
cast apprehensive glances down the pass. Kor was his 
apprehension groundless, for he had barely got his little 
procession started — Don Eelix with his double burden 
in the lead, and the heavily laden mule following, as 
reluctantly as though she hated to go — ^when a fierce, 
quavering cry from the very crest that he himself had 
climbed a half hour earlier, gave warning that his move- 
ments were watched. He touched Don Eelix with a 
spur, and the horse leaped ahead, just in time to avoid 
an arrow that came hissing down from the height. It 
grazed the mule instead, and caused her to dash fran- 
tically forward. As they gained the end of the pass, 
a backward glance showed the pursuit to have begun 
in earnest. Already two of the light riders, straining 


no 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


every nerve to overtake him, were in sight, and he knew 
that many others must be close upon their heels. 

Now how comforting it was to think of the recently 
despised valley, with its safety and its hospitable shel- 
ter. At present it was the only place in all the world 
for Arnold Knighton. If he only could reach it in 
time all would go well ; if he failed to do so, everything 
would be lost. Outside the Valley of Mystery he had 
not the slightest chance for life against that yelling 
horde; once within its portals he would be as safe as 
though the width of a continent divided them. 

On, Don Felix ! On, old boy ! We’ve got to do 
it, and we’ve got to carry this man in with us ! ” he 
shouted; and the horse understood. 


CHAPTEE XIII 


THE GUEST OF SOD CASTLE 

Of all visitors to the Land of Great Smoke, the 
Indian tribe known as Blackfeet, who shared with their 
mortal enemies, the Crows, the title of “ Pirates of the 
Mountains,” were most familiar with its natural fea- 
tures. It formed a portion of the domain over which 
they claimed control and over every foot of which they 
had fought or hunted. An unfortunate collision be- 
tween them and the first white men to penetrate their 
territory, the exploring expedition of Lewis and Clark 
in 1804, which resulted in the death of a Blackfoot 
warrior, had confirmed them in hostility to all pale- 
faces, and nothing so pleased them as to strike the fresh 
trail of a party of white trappers. They always fol- 
lowed it, and always the result was a raid, a massacre, 
a battle, or a scrap of some kind. In the present in- 
stance it had been a surprise, by which two trappers 
out of three had instantly been killed, while the third, 
about to fall into their hands, had been rescued by a 
gigantic stranger who appeared among them so sud- 
denly that he seemed to drop from the clouds. Eecov- 
ering from their first panic, and realizing that they had 
111 


112 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


fled before a single enemy, they faced about and started 
to retrieve the disgrace. 

Then ensued the pursuit already recorded, in which 
the superior fleetness of two of the Blackfoot ponies 
carried their riders well to the front. So far in ad- 
vance of their companions were these two that they 
were beginning to anticipate with misgivings an unsup- 
ported encounter with the mysterious white man. All 
at once one of them, to the astonishment of the other, 
checked the speed of his pony until he had reduced it 
to a walk. 

“ Do you not see,” he said, “ whither the white fool 
is heading ? In another minute he will enter the place 
of death from which is no escape, and we are not close 
enough to stop him. If he goes slowly, his horse may 
fall so near the entrance that we still may secure the 
scalps ; while, if hotly pursued, his speed may carry him 
beyond our reach before he drops. As it is certain that 
they will die, let us await those who are behind and 
take counsel with them how to secure the spoils that 
surely will lie in the place of white bones.” 

So these two waited, and they watched with equa- 
nimity the disappearance of Don Eelix with his double 
burden, followed by the pack mule, down the declivity 
leading into the fatal cleft. As the fugitives were thus 
lost to view, the Blackfeet advanced confldently, but 
without haste, to look upon the deadly struggle that 
they knew must be taking place in the gorge. Others 


THE GUEST OF SOD CASTLE 113 

of their band were joining them, and to these they were 
explaining the situation, with much merriment, when 
they reached a point from which they could see the 
pathway of bones as far as the angle. 

In speecliless amazement they looked at it, and then 
at each other. The unfortunate pack mule had fallen 
a hundred yards from the entrance, where she lay mo- 
tionless and plainly visible; hut of the black stallion 
and his rider there was no trace. In vain did the 
bewildered and bitterly disappointed savages advance 
along the side of the gorge to the very limit of human 
progress. They saw nothing, heard nothing, and could 
account in but one way for the phenomenal disappear- 
ance. The gigantic figure on a black horse, that had 
thrown them into a panic, eluded their pursuit, and now 
had passed in safety through the place of death, was no 
human being, but a malignant and powerful spirit. It 
was well known that such spirits existed, especially in 
the Land of Great Smoke, and often had the Blackfeet 
looked upon their work ; but never before had one actu- 
ally appeared among the living in broad daylight. The 
very fact that the mule following him had met with 
death where he had passed in safety was ample proof 
that he was more than mortal, and that in his hands 
they would be as helpless as the red-headed victim he 
had just borne away, doubtless for the purpose of de- 
vouring him. 

A hurried exchange of these views threw the moun- 


114 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


tain warriors into a second panic, so much greater than 
the first that they again fled, this time without await- 
ing the appearance of an enemy, nor did they draw 
rein until well outside the Great Smoke land, when a 
halt was compelled by exhaustion. Two days later 
they had rejoined the main village of their band, where 
they were excitedly telling of their fearful encounter 
and marvelous escape. 

From that center of information the tale spread 
with inconceivable rapidity. First it was heard by the 
several bands of Blackfeet, by whom it was carried to 
their allies, the Arapahoes and Cheyennes. About the 
same time it reached the ears of those other mountain 
Indians, the Crows, Shoshones, and Bannocks. From 
the Arapahoes it was transmitted to the Sioux, and 
from the Cheyennes, by way of the Mandans, it at 
length reached the Aricarees. Thus, after much travel, 
did it come to the ears of Peninah, son of Two Stars, 
who, having heard it, sat for a long time thoughtful. 
Then he said: 

ISTo evil spirit is it, but one of good will and help- 
fulness; for it can be no other than the spirit of 
Wicasta.’’ 

So the spirit known to dwell in the Valley of Mys- 
tery, which lies in the Land of Great Smoke, and may 
not be entered by living man, received the name by 
which ever afterward it was to be known. At that 
same moment the name began to travel back along the 


THE GUEST OF SOD CASTLE 


115 


trails of the story that had come to Peninah, until 
finally it reached the lodges of the Blackfeet, and even 
they knew that the spirit who had forehorne to slay 
them was called Wicasta/’ 

In the meantime Arnold Knighton, having brought 
a wounded man to the safety and shelter of Sod Castle, 
cared for him with such skill that shortly he found 
himself possessed of a companion, so cheery in temper 
that loneliness was banished from the Valley of Mys- 
tery. The very first sound uttered by the red-headed 
patient in his new abode was a laugh, which to sober- 
minded Arnold Knighton proved almost as startling as 
a war whoop. 

For a sick man, you seem a merry one,” he said. 

And why not ? If ye’d woke from a drame of 
being burned at a stake, to find yersilf lying cool and 
comfortable, wouldn’t ye be plazed enough to laugh at 
the joke ? ” 

I’ll own I might be,” admitted Knighton. As 
it is, I am greatly pleased at the success of my heroic 
treatment; for, lacking stimulants, I have just given 
you a scalding hot bath, followed by an ice-cold 
douche.” 

Some time afterward, when the patient, refreshed 
and strengthened by food and sleep, again woke with 
a laugh, Knighton, smiling in sympathy, asked him 
what sort of a dream was the cause of his present 
merriment. 


116 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


]^o drame at all, yer honor, but just a habit I 
have.” 

^ A habit of laughing when you are in trouble ? ” 
Ye niver spoke a truer word ; and it’s for the 
counteracting of me name, which is ‘ Blue.’ ” 

That does sound rather doleful. Family name, 
I suppose ? ” 

It is, sir, and again it isn’t.” 

Were you christened Blue % ” 

I was, more’s the pity ; and it happened this 
way. Me mother was a Dooley, and she had a mort 
of brothers and cousins and uncles, whose names ran 
to colors, as ye might say. There was White Dooley 
and Black Dooley, Green Dooley and Brown Dooley, 
while another named Bedmond was always called ^ Bed ’ 
Dooley. So it happened that when I was up for the 
christening, and the praste axed me father what name, 
the old gentleman, much flustrated, I being the first, 
says : McHarty, yer riverence.’ 

^ Av coorse, sthupidity,’ says the praste. ‘ But it’s 
the given name I’m wanting. Is he a b’y or a girl ? ’ 

^ B’y,’ says me father, ^ and the name’s a color. 

Blue ” it must be, for I heerd his mither the morn 
spaking av her little b’y blue.’ 

^ As good as another,’ says the praste, who was 
weary for his dinner. ^ Blue McHarty I christen 
thee — ’ So there I was, dyed indigo for life, and it’s 
a fight wid depression I’ve had ever since.” 


THE GUEST OF SOD CASTLE 


117 


At this account of a christening Arnold Knighton 
laughed for the first time in years. McHarty,” he 
said, ^^you were worth fighting for. I thought you 
would be when first I heard you laugh in face of the 
savages who were trying to kill you, and now I know 
I was right. If you feel strong enough, suppose you 
tell me how you happened to get into that fix.^^ 

Sure, sir, I’m as strong as a goat, and it’s a long 
story; but I’ll make it a short one, more befitting me 
wakeness. Ye’ll know, to begin at the beginning, that 
me father wanted to bring me up to his own profession, 
but I had no taste for it.” 

What was his profession ? ” asked Knighton. 

“ He was a college man, and connected wid old 
Trinity in Dublin.” 

“ Indeed ! That’s interesting. I am a college man 
myself.” 

“ Are you, sir ? But not of Trinity, maybe ? ” 

Ko. I am a graduate of Harvard.” 

I’ve heerd of it, sir. A grand college ! It must 
be somewheres in these parts, for I mind meeting wid 
a Harvard man, not more than a month ago, in the 
Bannock placer country. A very fine gentleman he 
was too.” 

^^Did you learn his name?” asked the other 
carelessly. 

I did. It was Wester, though I heard say that 
he came from the East.” 


118 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Wester ? ” exclaimed Knighton, greatly startled. 

What was his first name ? ” 

“ I didn’t ax him, but I will the next time I see 
him.” 

Do you know his class ? I mean in what year he 
was graduated ? ” 

Kot to be sure of it ; but he was a heavy man, 
much like yerself, and married, for I was told of the 
family he had at Fort Benton. I didn’t exchange words 
wid him, but I watched the argymint betwixt him and 
another gentleman, who remarked that a college-bred 
man was no good west of the Mississippi. I’d have 
questioned that meself, only Mr. Wester was so quick 
to get the drop that the other gentleman was apologiz- 
ing before I cud draw.” 

I wonder if it can be possible ? ” reflected Arnold 
Knighton. Of course not, though. But you haven’t 
told me how you happen to be out here fighting Black- 
feet ? ” he added aloud. 

Ko more I haven’t, sir. Yer see, not caring to 
follow me father’s profession 

By the way, what was your father professor of ? ” 

He was assistant to the bursar, sir, what some 
would call a ^ scout,’ or more like a porter, and he 
looked after the young gentlemen.” 

Ah, yes. And you didn’t care for the life ? ” 

Ko, sir. I had more of a mind for foreign travel. 
So I left home unbeknownst, and went to Cork, a fine 


THE GUEST OF SOD CASTLE 


119 


city entirely, thongh, av coorse, not the aqnil of Dub- 
lin. There I accepted a position as secretary to the 
provider of a ship bound for America.’’ 

The provider of a ship ? ” 

Yes, sir. The gentleman who provides the meals. 
The one I assisted was of color, and at times quite black 
in the face.” 

I understand. Go on.” 

When we got to Montreal I resigned from the sea, 
and prepared to cross the continent by accepting an- 
other position in the providing line wid the company. 
Very fine people, sir, and I might have been wid them 
still, only that last winter was so cold on the Saskatche- 
wan, I thought I’d get me a bit further south. Also I 
wanted to see something of the States before leaving 
America. So I hit the trail for Fort Benton, and a 
fine place it is, sir, though hardly aquil to Dublin. 
There I conthracted a partnership wid two American 
gentlemen — the same that got wiped out the other day 
— God rest their sowls ! — to carry on a fur business in 
this part of the States, and we were doing quite well 
when them red pirates jumped us. For a time I was 
fearful they would upset me plans ; but, thanks to you, 
sir, Fm all right again.” 

And what do you propose to do next ? ” 

I think maybe that, come spring, having seen 
quite enough of the States, I shall push me on to the 
coast and embark for Asia.” 


120 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


“ But you know nothing of the States yet. You 
haven’t seen a single city. Surely you ought to visit 
!Mew York and Boston, or at least St. Louis.” 

Why should I, sir ? Sure no one of thim could 
aquil the great city of Dublin. Oh, yes, sir. I’ve seen 
quite enough of the States ; and I must say, saving yer 
honor’s presence, that this place of yours here is the 
very finest I’ve encountered in traveling through thim.” 


CHAPTEE XIV 


BLUE MoHAETY^S SECEET 

Peemeated by the cheerful influence of Blue Mc- 
Hartj, Sod Castle was no longer a lonely place of resi- 
dence, nor did it now present the aspect of a prison. 
All day long could be heard the laugh, the song, the 
whistle, or the brogue of the red-headed Irishman, 
who, from morning till night, kept himself busy with 
manifold tasks. In recognition of his self-admitted 
knowledge of the providing business, the culinary 
department of Sod Castle was turned over to him as 
Boon as he was able to take charge, and he promptly 
instituted a number of pleasing reforms. Eor instance, 
he did away entirely with the cooking of meat by cut- 
ting it into thin strips, wrapping it about a green stick, 
and scorching it in a flame. This was the only method 
that had occurred to Arnold Knighton, and of it, after 
several months of trial, he had become heartily sick. 
He had attempted to make changes by roasting and 
broiling his meats, but in both cases he had only pro- 
duced inedible cinders. Also he had thought of stews, 
but the water of his spring did not attain quite the boil- 
ing point, and he had no kettle that he could set on 
the fire. 


9 


121 


122 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Blue McHarty at once began tbe manufacture of 
cooking utensils, and within a week he could boil water, 
stew, roast, bake, broil, or fry. At first he boiled water 
in a skin bag by throwing in red-hot stones; but later 
he made rude pipkins of clay. In this manufacture 
Knighton assisted, and through his knowledge of chem- 
istry soon succeeded in producing glazed ware that 
would withstand a great amount of heat. The new 
provider ” roasted by means of a green-wood spit, 
basting his meat with its own drippings, which he caught 
in a shallow earthen dish. He baked in a hole dug in 
the ground, half-filled with coals, and tightly covered 
with earth. He fried in an earthen pan, and broiled 
on a coarse broiler of wet twigs. 

McHarty also proved himself a fairly good tailor, 
and turned out several very creditable fur and skin 
garments for his companion and himself during the 
winter. Among the Irishman’s belongings, which 
Knighton recovered from the dead mule in the gorge 
on the first night after their escape from the Blackfeet, 
was an ax, several pairs of blankets, a dozen beaver 
traps, and part of the provisions with which his party 
had outfitted at Fort Benton. Thus Sod Castle now 
held a fair supply of cornmeal, sugar, tea, bacon, beans, 
and tobacco. All the fiour, as well as the few cooking 
utensils of the trappers had been packed on one of the 
animals killed in the pass, and secured by the Indians 
during their retreat, as our friends afterward discov- 


BLUE McHARTY’S SECRET 


123 


ered to their sorrow. But they were very grateful for 
the goods that had fallen to their share, which, added 
to what Knighton already owned, made them luxuri- 
ously comfortable for the winter. 

Being in one of the finest fur countries of the world, 
and having traps, they collected a great store of heaver 
skins, which McHarty, who had learned the tricks of 
the trade, carefully prepared for market. 

Leaving most of such work to his companion, 
Knighton devoted the greater part of the winter to his 
beloved chemistry, which he believed could he made to 
lend material aid in the carrying out of his plans for 
the future. To procure a number of substances need- 
ful to his experiments he was obliged to go outside the 
valley to various parts of the region affected by sub- 
terranean energies, and on these occasions he left Blue 
McHarty behind, much to that young Irishman's 
disgust. 

You couldnT help me,’’ Knighton would say ; 
and I can’t ask Don Felix to carry double all the 
time. Besides, it would be too dangerous, both in the 
gorge, where he would he more liable to stumble and 
throw us within the infiuence of the gases, and outside, 
where at any time we might have to depend upon his 
speed for our lives. So stay here, like a good fellow, 
and I’ll be back before you have had time to miss 
me.” 

Having a particular reason for so doing, Emighton 


124 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


had withheld from his companion the knowledge that 
the passage of the gorge was generally safe at night. 
At the same time he had given him full information 
concerning its dangers, and impressed upon him the 
fact that one could not safely pass through the gases 
unless his head were at least seven feet above the path- 
way of hones. As Don Felix was the only horse in the 
valley he seemed also to be the only connecting link 
with the outer world, and he refused to he ridden by 
any person except his master. So poor McHarty was 
made to feel very much like a prisoner in his comfort- 
able winter home and to long for the freedom of going 
and coming as he pleased. 

Knighton’s reason for withholding a knowledge of 
the air blast was that he was bleaching a second buffalo 
skin, much more carefully than he had the one stolen 
by the Sioux, and he had not acquired enough confi- 
dence in his companion to share with him the great 
secret that white buffaloes could he made to order. So, 
though he frequently walked into the gorge on moonlit 
nights to examine the workings of his hleachery,” he 
did not mention the fact to the other occupant of Sod 
Castle. On one of these occasions, as he returned to 
the valley, he found McHarty awaiting him at the end 
of the gorge. 

Praise he to the saints ! ” cried the honest fellow, 
half-laughing and half-sobbing, ‘‘I thought ye was 
dead and that I was shut up in this place for the rest 


BLUE McHARTY’S SECRET 


125 


of me life. But how did ye do it, sir ? I thought no 
man could walk that path except he was kilt.’’ 

That’s my secret,” laughed Knighton. Then, no- 
ticing a hurt expression on the other’s face, he added, 
I am considerably taller than you, you know.” 

Yes, sir, hut you’re not seven fate. However, if 
yez don’t care to be telling how the trick’s done. I’ll 
not be bothering ye about it.” 

Some six weeks after this incident, which Knighton 
had entirely forgotten, and long after the buffalo skin 
had been successfully bleached, cured with alum, and 
put away for future use, he again found occasion to 
leave the valley on one of his chemical trips. This time 
he went out on horseback, telling McHarty he should 
be hack before dark. Late that afternoon, as he rode 
hack, rejoicing in the first breath of spring, which had 
come at last, he was startled by what he at first took to 
he a human figure standing directly in the entrance to 
the gorge. A closer examination, conducted very cau- 
tiously, disclosed the object to he a sort of a scarecrow, 
braced by sticks, and holding outstretched a strip of 
white-tanned buckskin on which was printed, in crude, 
charcoal characters. 

Compliments Blue McHaety.” 

For a moment Knighton stared incredulous. How 
was the thing possible? Hot a breath of air was stir- 
ring in the gorge; the blanket of deadly gases was at 


126 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


least five feet thick, while the little Irishman wasn’t 
much more than five feet tall. And yet here was ir- 
refutable evidence that he had been out. Where was 
he now ? Had he gone back as he came, or had he left 
the valley for good, never to return? 

Asking himself these questions with a heavy heart 
and with a knowledge that without his cheery compan- 
ion he could not bear the terrible loneliness of the val- 
ley, Knighton rode on through the gorge, Don Felix 
holding his head high and giving his usual signs of. 
uneasiness as they went. 

“ Oh, say, Paddy, dear, and did ye hear 
The news that’s going round ? ” 

sung with a quaint quaver, seemed to lift a load from 
Arnold Knighton’s shoulders as he entered the valley. 
Although it did not solve the riddle of the scarecrow, 
it was proof sufficient that he had not been deserted. 

Blue McHarty, I never was more glad to see any- 
one in my life ! ” he cried as he entered the warmth 
and cheer of Sod Castle, where his companion was 
busily preparing a meal. 

The same to you, sir.” 

But how did you do it ? I mean, how did you 
ever go through that gorge and back again without a 
horse to carry you ? ” 

That’s my saycret, sir,” replied the young Irish- 
man with a wink and a comical leer. Ye see, I’m a 
good bit shorter than yer honor.” 


BLUE McHARTY’S SECRET 


127 


The trick is yours/’ laughed Knighton. You 
have turned the tables on me very neatly, and I will 
tell you my secret in exchange for yours.” 

Done, sir,” agreed the other promptly. 

So Knighton explained about the nightly draught 
of air that cleared the gorge of its noxious vapors, while 
McHarty listened with eager interest. 

The iligant simplicity av it ! ” he cried, when the 
other had finished. 'No trouble at all, and yet as 
tight as a goat, unless ye know the trick. It bates the 
Hocking Rock av the Dog Dens entirely ! ” 

“ Yes, it’s all very simple when you know it,” ad- 
mitted Knighton. But now tell me how you went out 
and came back in safety? Of course, anyone could do 
that at night ; but how you, with your height and with- 
out a horse, managed it in the daytime is away beyond 
my comprehension.” 

Perhaps, then, these’ll aid yer honor’s under- 
standing,” replied McHarty with a grin, at the same 
time stooping and pulling a pair of rudely constructed 
stilts from under his bunk. 

Stilts ! ” exclaimed Knighton. 

“ Kothing less,” replied McHarty gravely. 

The idea is absolutely silly in its simplicity, and 
yet it never occurred to me. How did you happen to 
catch it ? ” 

Sure, ye might be thinking of many things that 
would never occur to the likes of me; while, by the 


128 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


same token, I might now and then catch an idea that 
had given everyone else the slip. Me old father 
used to say that no two brains ever was built alike, 
and that what was pne man’s wisdom was another’s 
folly.” 

Eight he was,” laughed Knighton. But I am 
afraid that your idea of stilts combines wisdom with 
folly. They will carry you through the gorge so long 
as you can keep your footing; but if you should fall, 
as you are more than likely to on that pathway of bones, 
you would never live to remount them.” 

The very thing I was thinking all the way 
through, till I got so frighted that I barely took time 
to post me notice av location before I come back on 
a run.” 

On a run? ” 

Kothing less. And the danger av it was proved 
after I was safe in the valley, for I’d no sooner slowed 
to a walk when I got a tumble that bruk one of me 
stilts.” 

Well ! ” said Knighton, shaking his head, as he 
realized how very nearly his companion had been lost 
to him. I wouldn’t try to mend it, for you won’t 
have to use it again now that you know the secret of 
the air blast.” 

True, yer honor, and a saycret av that kind is a 
fine thing to own in this country. Are you knowing 
to that one of the Dog Dens I was speaking of ? ” 


BLUE McHARTY’S SECRET 129 

I was going to ask you about it. What do 
you mean by the Rocking Rock ? ” 

It’s just a tale I beard from one of me partners 
in the fur business, and whether it’s true or not I 
couldn’t tell. Anyhow, he said he was the only man 
living that was knowing to it, and now he’s entirely 
dead himself. It seems there is a place av some kind 
east of the Missouri called the Dog Dens.” 

Yes, I know of it.”' 

Do you so ? Then there’s no need for me to be 
telling you anything more about it.” 

Yes, yes ; go on. I’ve never been there, and all I 
know is from hearsay.” 

Then I’m knowing to as much as you, and maybe 
more, if ye never heard tell av the Rocking Rock.” 

I never did.” 

Well, then, there’s a cave, so I’m told, that leads 
down to the center of the earth, and out av it come all 
the Injuns, or at laste a large part of them.” 

Yes. I know of that cave.” 

Ye do ? Then ye know more than me after all, 
and I’ll tell ye no more.” 

In vain did Knighton apologize for his interrup- 
tion and beg his companion to complete his story of 
the Rocking Rock. The little Irishman was as obsti- 
nate as he was red-headed, and all he would say was : 

If ye know the cave, ye know the rock, for one 
leads to the other; and without knowing the one ye 


130 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


can know nothing of the other. So, since there’s no 
more to be said, I’ll bid ye good avening, while I go 
out for a short bit of a stroll.” 

With this, McHarty snatched up his rifle and 
walked out into the night, while Arnold, provoked at 
the man’s obstinacy, turned into his bunk and almost 
instantly fell fast asleep. 


CHAPTEK XV 


STEALING HOESES FROM HORSE THIEVES 

So weary was Arnold Knighton that evening that 
he slept without waking until daylight. Then, as he 
lay for a moment getting his eyes open, he wondered 
at the stillness. Usually Blue McHarty was up before 
this time, getting breakfast and whistling or singing 
over his work. Xow neither of these sounds was to be 
heard. Knighton sat up and stared about him. His 
companion's hunk was empty, and there was no fire on 
the hearth. 

Hello, Blue ! ” he shouted ; but there was no 
answer. 

Killed with misgivings, the man sprang up, went 
to the door and looked out. A light snow had fallen 
during the night, and it lay in unbroken whiteness. 
Hot a footprint led away from the shack or to it. Then 
Knighton remembered that the young Irishman had 
started the previous evening for what he called a bit 
of a stroll.’’ As he was in the habit of doing this on 
pleasant nights just before turning in, the other had 
thought nothing of it. How the recollection filled him 
with dismay. 


131 


132 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Blue has tried the passage of the gorge,” he said 
to himself, to prove the truth of what I told him about 
the air blast, and something has kept him from coming 
back.” 

A few minutes later Knighton was on Don Eelix’s 
hack, clattering through the gorge, with the hope of 
finding his companion waiting at the farther end. But 
McHarty was not there, nor was there a trace of him; 
only the thin mantle of snow was spread unbroken in 
every direction. 

Knighton rode a short distance beyond the gorge, 
and then pulled up. “ It is pure folly to he hunting 
a limitless wilderness like this without the slightest 
idea of direction,” he reflected. And he may he in 
the valley after all. Like as not he is back at the ranch 
getting breakfast by this time, and wondering what has 
become of me.” 

With this he turned and rode hack to Sod Castle, 
only to find it as empty as when he left. He got him- 
self some breakfast, ate it in melancholy loneliness, 
and then set forth to search the valley; hut without 
result. Eor a week, only pausing for needed rest and 
food, did Arnold Knighton maintain the hunt for his 
lost companion, and in all that time he found no sign. 
Then he gave it up and turned his attention to other 
matters. 

Spring had come, and with it the time for travel. 
Life alone in the valley was no longer endurable, and, 


STEALING HORSES FROM HORSE THIEVES 133 


also, the great object to which he had sworn to devote 
himself demanded his presence elsewhere. But before 
he could journey he must secure transportation for his 
effects. He needed horses, and he proposed to procure 
them by the aid of chemistry. 

During his months of residence in the Land of 
Great Smoke, Knighton had become thoroughly fa- 
miliar not only with its natural features, but with the 
many trails by which it was crossed in every direction. 
He had learned that one of these was much used by 
Blackfoot horse;stealing expeditions on their way to 
and from the country of the Crows, and near it he 
established a camp of observation. 

Bor three days he waited in close hiding, and then 
his patience was rewarded. A distant dust-cloud finally 
disclosed a small party of warriors returning from a 
successful raid, riding leisurely and driving before 
them a number of stolen horses. When they had passed 
his hiding place, Knighton cautiously followed and 
watched them until they went into camp for the night. 
Then he made his own preparations. 

Kearly all his chemical work during the past 
winter had been in the direction of producing inflami 
mable combinations that would burn either with intense 
light or brilliant color. With an abundance of sulphur 
and saltpeter at hand, he also had found or compounded 
magnesium chloride, chlorate of potassium, strontium 
nitrate, and red orpiment. From these he had manu- 


134 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


factured a small quantity of magnesium wire, and had 
produced the materials for both red and blue fire. 
Although thus well equipped for a Fourth of July cele- 
bration, our chemist had other and much more prac- 
tical uses for the fireworks that he had prepared with 
such patient application, aided only by the crudest of 
apparatus. 

On the night in question the Blackfoot warriors, 
having eaten a hearty meal, were sprawled in the dark- 
ness about a camp-fire big enough to light their pipes, 
but not emitting sufficient glow to direct the aim of an 
enemy’s weapon. Their stolen horses were pastured 
under guard close at hand, and no night of their entire 
raid had promised greater peace than this one. 

Suddenly the low-voiced conversation of the war- 
riors was interrupted by a moaning sound, that rapidly 
grew into a piercing war cry. Ere it ceased, two points 
of light, one blue and the other red, appeared on a low 
hilltop at one side. These quickly expanded into bril- 
liant fiames, giving out great volumes of smoke that 
rolled away in tinted clouds. 

By this time every warrior was on his feet, gazing 
in bewilderment at the spectacle. As the fiames grew 
brighter they began to utter ejaculations of terror; for, 
gradually outlining before their astonished eyes, ap- 
peared a great figure, apparently towering to the sky. 
All at once, it vanished in the smoke-cloud, to reappear 
a minute later rushing directly toward them on horse- 


STEALING HORSES FROM HORSE THIEVES 135 

back, and surrounded by whirling flashes of dazzling 
light. 

This was more than the Blackfeet could stands 
and, yelling the name of Wicasta as they ran, 
they fled precipitately through the pall of blackness 
immediately succeeding the lightning-like flashes by 
which the dreaded spirit had been revealed. Above all 
other sounds they now heard the pounding of hoofs, 
swelling to a roll like thunder, and then gradually dying 
into a silence that was almost as terrible. During the 
remainder of the night there was no repetition of the 
mysterious sights or sounds, and with daylight the 
boldest among them ventured back with a faint hope 
of regaining their horses. Not one remained; but a 
broad trail led to the place of bones, and none dared 
attempt to follow it farther. 

In the meantime Don Delix had borne his rider 
into the thick of the stolen herd, and through it ; where- 
upon the frightened animals stampeded and followed 
the sound of his flying hoofs until it led them into the 
Valley of Mystery. 

A few hours later, Arnold Knighton, working at 
his leisure, selected and roped six of the ponies thus 
corralled, and tethered them in the vicinity of Sod Cas- 
tle. For several days he fed these and watered them, 
until they became accustomed to his presence ; then, on 
the night selected for his departure, he turned two of 
them loose. The remaining four he loaded with the 


136 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


packs of furs and other properties already prepared, 
made them fast one behind another, and heading, on 
Don Felix, the procession thus formed, he passed for 
the last time out over the white pathway of death that 
led to the world of life. 

During the two months that followed, the wander- 
ings of the outcast warrior led him over many a weary 
league of mountain, desert, and plain, amid dangers 
that taxed all his skill to escape, and hardships that 
tested his fortitude. His best hit of good fortune was 
the meeting with a couple of white trappers who had 
wintered in the mountains, and who, like himself, were 
bound out to dispose of their pelts. So well did he 
guard his secrets that these men, with all their keenness, 
never once suspected that he was without a scalp, or 
that, in one of his tightly wrapped packs, he carried 
anything so precious as a white buffalo skin. At the 
same time he learned but little of their history. The 
three traveled together for mutual protection, and cared 
for nothing further. 

In this manner they finally came to Fort Laramie, 
a trading post of the American Fur Company, located 
on the north fork of the Platte, where Knighton sold 
his heaver skins for five hundred dollars. He did not 
receive this sum in money, hut in form of an order on 
St. Louis, signed by the bourgeois or head trader of 
the post. Here also he exchanged two of his pack 
ponies for powder, hall, and provisions. From Fort 


STEALING HORSES FROM HORSE THIEVES 137 


Laramie he traveled in company with a band of Ogala- 
lah Sioux, who at that time were friendly to the whites, 
as far as Pierre’s Fort on the Missouri. 

In all this mingling with both whites and Indians 
the wanderer had, by the wearing of a close-fitting fur 
cap, which he never removed from his head, concealed 
the fact that he was scalpless. FTeither had he be- 
trayed any knowledge of the Aricarees, among whom 
he had dwelt for so long. 

From Koda, his wife, he had gained many words of 
the Sioux language, and after winning the confidence 
of his Ogalalah traveling companions by the exercise 
of his medical skill in their behalf, he began to make 
cautious inquiries concerning certain other of the plains 
tribes. Thus, finally he heard of the futile attempts 
of the Aricarees to render themselves strong in war by 
securing the skin of a white buffalo. 

The Sioux laughed immoderately whenever this 
subject was mentioned, and were not inclined to dis- 
cuss it ; but at length, little by little, Knighton learned 
the story of Bear Tooth’s treachery and its result. 
According to what he was told, that black-hearted medi- 
cine man had reappeared in the Aricaree village 
shortly after the return of Peninah’s expedition, bring- 
ing with him a white buffalo skin that he claimed to 
have acquired through the strength of his magic in the 
region of the Dog Dens. When confronted with his 
own horse, captured by Peninah far to the westward 
10 


138 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


and near tlie Land of Great Smoke, Bear Tootli de- 
clared that the animal had been stolen from him by 
the Sionx. This story failed to allay Peninah^s sus- 
picions; and at the ceremony of presenting the white 
buffalo skin, which took place in the great Council 
Lodge, the young warrior watched the wily medicine 
man with relentless eyes. 

At length the precious skin was produced and un- 
rolled, when, to the consternation of Bear Tooth and 
the amazement of all others present, it was found to 
be absolutely hairless. The hair was there, and it was 
white, but it was detached from the hide, and when 
the latter was unfolded it fell to the ground in a loosely 
matted mass. Before Bear Tooth could utter a word 
in explanation, the son of Two Stars had sprung to his 
feet and pronounced this skin to be the very one pro- 
cured in the Land of Great Smoke by the white medi- 
cine man who had accompanied him to that far-away 
region and who had foretold that its hair would drop 
out if it were handled by any person other than him- 
self. Then he denounced Bear Tooth not only as a 
traitor to the Aricarees, but as the murderer of that 
white man who had become an Aricaree warrior, and 
demanded that he be punished. 

What was done to that false medicine man ? ” 
asked Knighton carelessly, after he had pieced together 
the bits that formed this story. 

It is not certainly known, was the reply. By 


STEALING HORSES FROM HORSE THIEVES 139 


some it is said that after losing both his eyes and his 
crooked tongue he was put to death; hut others claim 
that he still lives as a squaw man and a slave of the 
Aricaree squaws, who have orders to heat him daily/’ 

Besides this story, the fur-cap man,” as he was 
called by the Sioux, gathered from his new friends 
several other hits of interesting information. He was 
told the tale of the mighty spirit of the Great Smoke 
Land, whose name was Wicasta.” Also he learned 
of a scalp of long brown hair obtained in that dread 
region, and, for some reason unknown to them, con- 
sidered so precious that it was kept in the great medi- 
cine lodge of the Dakotahs on the shore of Minnewakon, 
the sacred lake of salt waters. 

Having talked of these things, as well as of many 
others, during the journey to Pierre’s Fort on the 
Missouri, the white man, at that point, disappeared 
from the knowledge of his Ogalalah friends. They 
believed that he had boarded a steamer and gone down 
the river to the place of his own people; hut in this 
they were wrong. He had boarded a steamer after 
dark, but only to obtain its captain’s receipt for an 
American Fur Company’s order, the amount of which 
was to be deposited in a St. Louis bank to the credit 
of Arnold Knighton. Then, without returning to land, 
the man caused himself and his horses to he set across 
the river, and from its farther bank he rode away alone 
to take the second step toward carrying out his great 
plan. 


CHAPTEE XVI 


THE EOCKIHG KOOK OF THE DOG DEHS 

While the Aricarees, together with their allies, the 
Mandans, dwelt on the west bank of the Missouri, its 
eastern bank and the intervening country to the dis- 
tant Eed Eiver of the Xorth was held by the Santee 
Sioux, most numerous and powerful of all the bands 
comprising the great Dakotah Xation. In their domain 
lay Minnewakon, afterward named by white men Dev- 
il’s Lake; and their broad pasture lands, where fed 
countless thousands of buffalo, were bisected by a range 
of tall hills, grass-covered to their summits, and hold- 
ing many mysteries. Chief among these was the de- 
tached group of rugged buttes, rent by chasms and 
honeycombed with caves, known as the Dog Dens. 

According to legends, handed down from generation 
to generation around Aricaree camp-fires, or in the 
warm lodges on nights of storm and cold, the first In- 
dians (Aricarees, of course), from whom all others are 
descended, came up from the interior of the earth and 
reached its surface through a mighty cavern of the 
Dog Dens. Through this exit, which no mortal had 
ever seen, came also the first buffalo, the first elk, and 
140 


THE ROCKING ROCK OF THE DOG DENS 141 


the first of all other animals necessary to the life of 
man. When enough of these had issued forth, a pack 
of fierce ghost-dogs, whose growls and snarlings may 
sometimes he heard even to this day, were set to guard 
the cavern’s mouth, that the upper world might not 
become too crowded. Also, while these ghostly guard- 
ians continue to bark, dwellers on the surface may not, 
during life, visit their kinsfolk of the under world, 
though after death their spirits find no difficulty in 
passing hack and forth at will. 

Many times and in various forms had Arnold 
Knighton heard this legend of the Dog Dens while 
dwelling among the Aricarees, from whom he now was 
outcast. Also he had planned to visit the region and 
make a study of its ghostly phenomena, but could not 
persuade an Indian to accompany him as guide. Even 
Peninah would not go, so deep-rooted was the super- 
stition that warned all Aricarees from that vicinity. 

During his search for a white buffalo, and amid 
the exciting events of his life in the Great Smoke Land, 
Knighton had not thought of the Dog Dens until so 
strangely reminded of them by Blue McHarty. Since 
then they often had been in his mind, and now he was 
on his way to explore their mysteries. As they lay 
about two hundred and fifty miles from Pierre’s Fort, 
the journey occupied him nearly a week. Then he 
found himself in a region of high hills and deep-cut 
valleys, of lakes and streams, as different as can be 


142 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


imagined from that of his recent abode, but quite as 
mysterious and fully as lonely as the place in which 
he had built Sod Castle. 

Having thus reached the scene of his proposed ex- 
plorations, Knighton made camp in a grove of spread- 
ing oaks at the bottom of a grassy, well-watered hollow, 
turned loose his horses, and set forth on foot to see 
what he could find. For days he wandered from butte 
to butte, from valley to valley; descending into dark 
canyons, climbing precipitous hillsides, ever searching, 
but never finding that which he sought. Apparently 
there was no cavern, and Blue McHarty’s Hocking Hock 
was the veriest of myths. Each day only increased the 
keenness of his disappointment, until he knew not in 
which direction to turn. He was seeking a place in 
which an outcast warrior might make for himself a 
home that would be free from molestation, a place 
similar to the Valley of Mystery, but not so hopelessly 
remote. The Dog Dens had promised something of the 
kind, but now they seemed disinclined to redeem their 
promise. 

One afternoon Knighton lay on a grassy slope 
gloomily regarding a steep opposite bank, at the foot 
of which flowed a small stream. For many minutes 
he remained so motionless that certain of the timid 
creatures who dwelt thereabouts, and who had hidden 
at his approach, began to resume their interrupted 
occupations. Little birds hopped fearlessly within his 


THE ROCKING ROCK OF THE DOG DENS 143 


reach, a slender green snake glided by without noticing 
him, and a striped gopher sat up and barked at him 
with shrill notes of defiance. Finally a fox, with a fat 
prairie hen fiung across his back, trotted by within a 
stone’s throw, and suddenly disappeared, as though pos- 
sessed of the magic of invisibility. 

The man rubbed his eyes and looked again. Then 
he rose, greatly to the consternation of his tiny neigh- 
bors, and walked in that direction. Crossing the shal- 
low stream he came to a bit of overlapping bank hold- 
ing a growth of bushes, behind which was a crevice. 
This was so narrow that one might hardly squeeze into 
it; but from it issued a current of cool air. Except 
for this last feature Knighton would have paid the 
crevice but slight attention. It would have seemed to 
him a fox’s den and nothing more; but a current of 
air so cool and strong suggested an interior space that 
might be worth exploring. So he made a cautious 
entry on hands and knees, in which position he had not 
crawled more than a rod before he found that he could 
stand up, with room to- spare. He shouted, and the 
echoes startled him with the distance of their reverbera- 
tions. Could it be a cavern? The cavern for which 
he was seeking? If so, McHarty’s story of a Kocking 
Eock at its entrance must indeed have been a bit of 
pure imagination. 

Much as Knighton desired to explore this subter- 
ranean mystery, upon which he had so accidentally 


144 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


stumbled, be dared not go beyond tbe circle of dim 
light filtering through the narrow entrance. So he beat 
a retreat while the way lay plain and returned to his 
camp. 

The following morning saw him again at Fox 
Gate,” as he called the cavern entrance, well provided 
with means for continuing his explorations. He had 
candles, magnesium wire, matches, a packet of cooked 
meat, and, above all, a small compass. Also he had 
brought with him pencil and paper. Thus equipped, 
he boldly entered the narrow passage and began a series 
of underground wanderings that were continued for 
hours. The distance in a direct line covered during this 
time was not very great, probably not over a quarter of 
a mile, but every foot of it was explored with the utmost 
thoroughness, the angle of each turn was noted, and 
every distance was paced. In this way a large number 
of chambers, with their connecting passages, were vis- 
ited, numbered, and described. Many others were 
noted as existing, but were allowed to remain unex- 
plored for the present. 

Knighton quickly found that while some of the 
passages sloped downward, others led up; and it was 
these latter that he made a point of following. When 
he was beginning to think that he had done enough for 
one day and ought to be turning back, it suddenly oc- 
curred to him that the atmosphere of the last chamber 
he had entered was decidedly warmer than that of any 


THE ROCKING ROCK OF THE DOG DENS 145 


others. This would seem to indicate the vicinity of an- 
other outlet to sun-warmed air. So he kept on a few 
steps farther, and presently caught a gleam of daylight. 
In another minute he had emerged into the full glow 
of an afternoon sun, in which he stood for a space, 
blinking like an owl. 

As his eyes grew accustomed to the glare so that 
he might study his surroundings, he noted that directly 
before him, and cutting off his view, rose a gigantic 
bowlder, or rather a great mass of rock. It seemed to 
fill at that point a narrow canyon of precipitous sides, 
by which, but for it, he would be barred from further 
advance. The top surface of the rock sloped sharply 
upward from him, and to gain a view of what lay be- 
yond he began to ascend toward its farther edge. As 
he approached this he was dismayed to see that it 
failed to reach, by some twenty feet, the opposite side 
of the canyon, which also was lower by about the same 
distance. 

Knighton stepped to the very edge to look down, 
when, to his consternation, the whole mass on which 
he was standing began to move with a harsh, grating 
sound, that he instantly connected with the snarlings 
of the legendary ghost-dogs. Overcome by terror, and 
believing the whole mountainside to be sliding, the 
man instinctively flung himself backward, though with- 
out hope of escape. At the same moment there came a 
slight jar, and with it the alarming motion ceased. 


146 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


For a full minute he lay where he had fallen, ex- 
pecting it to he resumed. Then, as nothing further 
happened, he cautiously regained his feet and looked 
about him. The angle of slope had so changed that he 
now stood on the lower instead of the upper edge of 
the rocky plane, and no longer was there an open space 
between him and the farther side of the canyon. It 
had been bridged, and he was free to pass on. Stepping 
from the rock, he walked a few paces and then looked 
back. All was quiet; the great rock appeared as fixed 
in its place as the everlasting hills, but it again sloped 
upward from him, so that he could not see what lay 
beyond. The mouth of the cavern from which he had 
emerged was hidden as though it never had existed. 

I wonder if it has been filled up and obliterated ? ’’ 
he mentally questioned. I never heard of so gentle 
a landslide; but its effects may have been far-reaching. 
I suppose I might as well find out what has happened 
now as later.” 

Thus thinking he returned to the rocky slope, and 
stepping as lightly as possible, so as not to disturb exist- 
ing conditions, he advanced to its upper edge. Cau- 
tiously peering over, he saw below him a black space, 
beyond which showed the dark opening of the cavern. 
He caught but a glimpse, for, even as he bent forward to 
look, the grinding sound of a few minutes before was re- 
peated, and once more he felt the great rock in motion 
beneath him. Again he hastily fiung himself backward. 


THE ROCKING ROCK OF THE DOG DENS 147 


and again came the jar that announced the cessation 
of movement. Springing to his feet, he found himself 
at the cavern’s mouth, with the rock sloping up behind 
him, as when he had first seen it. 

At length it flashed into his mind that he was stand- 
ing upon the identical Eocking Eock of which Blue Mc- 
Harty had heard the story that he attempted to narrate 
to his friend. The young Irishman had said : 

If ye know the cave, ye know the rock, for one 
leads to the other; and without knowing the one, ye 
can know nothing of the other.” 

That was exactly the present situation, except that, 
whoever told McHarty the story of the cavern evidently 
had known nothing of the Fox Gate. 

Overjoyed by his discovery, our explorer tested the 
qualities of this unique drawbridge by walking to the 
opposite edge of the rock and back again several times. 
In each case the giant bowlder, undoubtedly dropped 
into its peculiar position by some mighty glacier of a 
prehistoric age, tilted with his weight like a delicately 
balanced see-saw, and each movement was accompanied 
by the same sound of grinding that had so alarmed him 
at first. 

At length he had found what he wanted, a dwelling- 
place secure from all ordinary forms of intrusion, since 
no Indian acquainted with the legends of the region 
dared approach it, and, according to Blue McHarty, 
only one white man up to this time had discovered its 


148 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


secret. It was possible, too, that he might make the 
entrance even more secure by devising some means to 
control the motion of the rock after he had stepped 
from it, so that at all times it should present a barrier 
impassable except by himself. In the mean time his 
first effort must be to render the place habitable, while 
his second and greatest undertaking would be to pro- 
vide it with inmates that should banish its loneliness. 


CHAPTEE XYII 


STOEM-SWEPT AND HOPELESS 

The Sioux medicine men who guarded the skin of 
the white buffalo, which, brought from the Land of 
Great Smoke, was kept in the Council Lodge at Minne- 
wakon, were greatly troubled. The magic skin had 
conferred strength and prosperity upon the tribe ; their 
war parties were everywhere successful and their horse- 
stealing expeditions had increased the tribal wealth be- 
yond computation. They were lords of the northern 
plains, and none might withstand them. Only two 
great things remained to be undertaken. On the east, 
the whites, who had crossed the Mississippi, were sweep- 
ing westward to the Eed Eiver of the Xorth, taking 
possession of the Sioux lands, destroying their forests, 
killing off their game, and threatening their very ex- 
istence as a people. On the west, also, the ever-present 
whites, creeping up the Missouri and establishing forts 
at commanding points, had formed friendly relations 
with those bitter enemies of the Dakotah, the Aricarees. 
The white chiefs were enlisting Aricaree warriors as 
scouts, runners, and horse-guards, and also were they 
providing them with rifles and ammunition. Thus had 
149 


150 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


the hands of the Aricarees been so strengthened that 
the Sioux had not yet succeeded in wiping out this tribe 
of tall fighters who always had defied them, though, 
since coming into possession of a white buffalo skin, 
the Sioux had dealt the tribe of Two Stars many tell- 
ing blows. By the further aid of this all-powerful 
talisman the former still hoped to check the advance of 
the whites, as well as to exterminate the hated Arica- 
rees; and only the medicine men having it in charge 
knew that its virtue was failing. 

Prom the very first these had noted the dropping 
out of its white hairs, which, with each succeeding 
day, fell more and more rapidly, until at length the 
skin showed great patches of bare hide, and promised, 
within a few months, to become entirely hairless. When 
that happened, its magic would have departed, and its 
medicine would no longer strengthen the arms of 
those warriors who depended upon it to bring them 
victory. Before this should become known, and before 
the confidence of the nation should be shaken, was the 
time to strike two decisive blows — one against the ever- 
encroaching whites on the east, and the other against 
the still defiant Aricarees on the west. It had become 
kno^vn to the Sioux that a great war was raging among 
the palefaces, and they believed that, on account of it, 
both the white settlers of western Minnesota as well as 
the Aricarees, would be at their mercy. 

Thus it happened that the close of a day in early 


STORM-SWEPT AND HOPELESS 


151 


autumn, some fifteen months from the date on which 
Peninah’s first unsuccessful expedition to the Great 
Smoke Land had returned, found the Aricaree village 
of Chief Two Stars in a state of pitiable confusion and 
great alarm. For six hours its warriors had been fight- 
ing against overwhelming numbers of Sioux on the 
plains beyond the bluffs. From coulee to coulee they 
had battled, ever losing ground, and ever driven back- 
ward. 

Although the Aricarees fought well, it was without 
enthusiasm. They knew that their enemies were pos- 
sessed of a magic talisman that was strongest in time 
of war ; while all their own efforts to obtain one like it 
had only resulted in failure. How, then, could they 
hope to succeed when it was only too evident that the 
Great Spirit was not on their side? Thus, while the 
Sioux fought with the courage and dash inspired by the 
conviction of ultimate success, the Aricarees resisted 
with the doggedness of despair without hope. So they 
were driven back slowly but steadily, until the coming 
of night found them in full retreat down the slope of 
the bluffs whose crown was already occupied by the ex- 
ultant Sioux. With the advent of another day these 
last would follow up their victory and wipe out every 
remnant of the miserable village that had for so long 
defied them. How they would rest and feast in antici- 
pation of the bloody triumph that was within their 
grasp. 


152 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


The Aricaree village, on the other hand, was a scene 
of confusion and despair. The exhausted warriors ate 
in sullen silence of the food prepared by their squaws, 
and repaired their broken weapons. Some molded bul- 
lets, others bathed their wounds in the river, while here 
and there one sat dumbly, holding in his arms a favorite 
child. In the Council Lodge a little circle of chief men 
silently smoked without looking into one another’s faces. 
There was nothing to be said, nothing to be done, but 
on the morrow to yield up their lives as dearly as pos- 
sible. The victorious Sioux had them hemmed in on 
the north, the south, and the west. On the east was the 
great river, beyond which lay the country of their ene- 
mies. For a long time no white soldiers had come up 
the Missouri ; they were too busy fighting among them- 
selves to help the poor Aricarees or even to think of 
them. So the hearts of the wise men were as dark 
with sorrow as the night itself, and it was so black that 
no star was to be seen. 

All the village, therefore, was nerving itself to meet 
death, and of its many inmates only two were medi- 
tating flight. One of these was Koda, who had been 
the wife of Wicasta, but who, now that he was dead, 
was unhappily married to an Aricaree warrior who ill- 
treated her and compelled her to work beyond her 
strength. The other was Bear Tooth, who had indeed 
been degraded to the pitiful position of a squaw-man, 
with the tips of his ears clipped off. On the day just 


STORM-SWEPT AND HOPELESS 


153 


ended it had been Kodaks turn to keep him at his menial 
tasks and to beat him. This last she had done gladly, 
and with her utmost strength, as she reflected that 
through him had come all her present sorrows, as well 
as a large share of the misfortunes now overtaking the 
village. As a result. Bear Tooth hated his task-mistress 
that night more than he did any other living person. 

Koda was planning to escape and throw herself upon 
the mercy of the triumphant Sioux because they were 
her own people. There was no reason why she should 
stay and share the fate of the Aricarees, who had de- 
spised and abused her since the loss of her first hus- 
band. Bear Tooth was planning to flee to the Sioux 
not only because he, too, could claim kinship with 
them, but because his limit of endurance had been 
reached. Only before he left he wanted in some way 
to wreak vengeance on the woman who, that day, had 
caused him to suffer as never before since the hour of 
his disgrace. So he prowled about the lodge in which 
she dwelt, seeking an opportunity to do her harm. 

While the Aricaree village thus lay under a double 
pall of blackness, one mental and the other physical, 
the latter suddenly was rent by a flash of intensely vivid 
lightning, instantly followed by an appalling crash of 
thunder. At the same time came a rush of wind that 
howled and shrieked among the lodges, but there was 
no rain. For an hour did the electrical wind-storm 

blaze, roar, and screech above the cowering village, 
11 


154 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


whose trembling inhabitants believed that it foretold 
the extinction of their tribe. 

In Kodaks lodge the little Hanana, greatly fright- 
ened, clung to her mother’s skirts and screamed with 
terror. In vain did the woman try to quiet her, in 
vain did the sullen warrior who had become her step- 
father, order her to be silent. Finally, he grew so en- 
raged against the child that he tore her from her 
mother’s arms and flung her from the lodge, exclaiming 
as he did so : 

“ Go to your bugaboo father, then ! This is his 
weather.” 

The woman attempted to spring after the child, but 
the man held her for a full minute before letting her 
go. Then she rushed outside, but could distinguish 
nothing in the blackness. In vain did she call, darting 
hither and thither, by the fitful gleams of the lightning, 
but her child was gone leaving no trace. Into lodge 
after lodge ran the distracted mother; but none could 
tell her of her lost one, until at length she came to 
an old crone who dwelt by herself on the edge of the 
village. To the mother’s inquiries this one made harsh 
answer : 

I may have seen your child, and I may not. By 
the light of the sky-fire I saw the cut-eared squaw-man 
running with a child in his arms. Whither he went 
I know not, but his trail leads in the direction of our 
enemies.” 


STORM-SWEPT AND HOPELESS 


155 


This clew was a faint one, but there was no other 
and Koda followed it, appearing with dawn in the Sioux 
camp, demanding her child. She was dressed as an 
Aricaree woman, and they would have killed her, hut, 
boldly facing them, she made the sign of the Dakotah 
and claimed blood-kinship. So they held their hands 
and set her to work with their own women, hut of her 
child they could tell her nothing. !N^o man, crop-eared, 
or otherwise, had passed their lines that night, and, as 
she could see for herself, there was no child among 
them. 

^Finding this to he the case, Koda would have re- 
turned to the Aricarees to make further search in the 
village, hut this the Sioux would not allow for fear she 
should tell their enemies of the loss they themselves had 
sustained during that night of storm. By it their 
strength was so shorn that even as she came among 
them, they were meditating a retreat instead of the 
triumphant advance and easy victory they had planned 
for that day. 

In the mean time the little Hanana, flung forth 
into the storm, had been snatched up by Bear Tooth 
prowling about the lodge of the person he most wished 
to injure. With a suppressed cry of exultation he 
clasped the child tightly and ran with her in the direc- 
tion of the Sioux encampment on the bluffs. He was 
filled with evil triumph, for not only was he dealing 
a deadly blow to the woman he hated, but he had cap- 


156 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


tured a prize that would insure him a welcome among 
the Dakotah. So the crop-eared squaw-man chuckled 
to himself as ran in a wide circuit from the village and 
paid Jittle heed to the voice of the child whom he 
carried. 

Another man, however, heard the sound and listened 
with straining ears to the childish cries uttered in a 
tongue hut little used among the Aricarees. 

Mamma ! mamma ! Papa ! papa ! ” screamed the 
little one. 

The one person who listened and comprehended, 
stood beside the log cabin formerly occupied by the 
white medicine man as a laboratory. Peaching it some- 
time after dark he had been busily engaged inside, 
until attracted by the cries of Hanana. Then he sprang 
to the open, wild with excitement. 

Bear Tooth’s circuitous course led him close to the 
ruinous hut which, standing above and beyond the vil- 
lage, was the last of all its structures. After passing 
it there would be no further danger of his flight being 
interrupted. Already he was breathing more freely and 
beginning to slacken his pace. Suddenly he was brought 
to a halt as abruptly as though he had run against a 
wall of rock, for a flash of lightning had revealed, 
standing directly in his path, a great flgure having the 
terrible features of one whom he knew to be dead. 

Almost with the flrst gleam of the next morning’s 
light, the crop-eared traitor, who once was Bear Tooth, 


STORM-SWEPT AND HOPELESS 


157 


medicine man, was found lying dead with a broken neck, 
on the very spot where he had been halted by that dread 
apparition. Those who found him looked at one an- 
other with fear and trembling, for during the storm of 
the night before they, together with all the village, had 
heard, thrice repeated, the war cry of Wicasta, and 
here, close at hand, stood the medicine lodge that in life 
had been his. 


CHAPTER XYIII 


THE WAR CRY OF WICASTA 

Wheit the war cry of Wicasta, thrice repeated, 
sounded above the rush of winds, on the night that many 
of the Aricarees believed to he their last on earth, the 
storm was at its height, and the one seemed a fitting 
complement of the other. Although none dared ven- 
ture forth, many eyes turned instinctively in the direc- 
tion of the dead man’s medicine lodge, and these were 
rewarded by a sight as startling as had been the sound 
of the war cry. The little cabin, standing by itself on 
a slight eminence, was ablaze with light and seemed to 
be on fire. Elames of many colors surrounded it and 
great clouds of smoke were whirled about it by the 
fierce winds. On the side of the structure toward the 
village, which was open, glowed a light of marvelous 
brightness, and behind this shone a patch of dazzling 
white. What this was none could imagine, but the 
effect of the whole was to arouse fear, stimulate curi- 
osity, and so excite superstition that the bravest man 
in the village would rather have died than go near the 
haunted cabin that night. The fire display lasted only 
a few minutes, and then all was black as before, but none 
158 


THE WAR CRY OF WICASTA 


159 


among the Aricarees dared sleep, and never was dawn 
more anxiously awaited. 

In the morning, as soon as it was light enough to 
distinguish the outlines of the log cabin, half a dozen 
of the bravest warriors, led by Peninah, advanced 
cautiously in that direction. Their first find was the 
dead body of Bear Tooth, though of the little Hanana 
there was no sign. After a few minutes spent in exam- 
ination of this grewsome object, they again moved 
slowly toward the cabin. That it should he standing, 
unharmed by the flames they had seen envelope it, gave 
ample cause for astonishment, hut one infinitely greater 
awaited them. It was not revealed until they had 
reached the structure and were timidly peering into its 
black interior. Then one after another gave vent to 
ejaculations of incredulous amazement, for, suspended 
from the ceiling of the single room, and stretched to 
such length that it occupied the entire opposite wall 
space, was as perfect a buffalo skin as any of them ever 
had seen. Also it was of an even whiteness without 
blemish or discoloration. Por a space the warriors 
gazed in awe-stricken silence. Then spoke Peninah, 
in a voice that at first was little louder than a whisper : 

It is a gift from Wicasta,’’ he said. Prom his 
place in the Spirit Land he came again to his adopted 
people to bring them a trophy of his hunting and to 
proclaim his anger against Bear Tooth the traitor. As 
all may see, this is the skin of no earthly buffalo, for 


160 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


on earth was never one so perfect or so white. That 
Wicasta himself came we know, for did we not hear his 
voice. With him, and in his honor, came also the thun- 
der god, the god of fire, and the god of mighty winds. 
To this lodge, built by Wicasta when he was a man, they 
came, and breathed upon it with breathings of colored 
fiame that he might have light to place his gift. Red 
was the breath of the thunder god; blue marked the 
presence of the god of winds ; white, the brightest light 
of all, so dazzling to our eyes that we hardly could look, 
was the breath of the fire god, who is most powerful, 
l^ow are the Aricarees favored above all other tribes 
and made so strong that none may withstand them. 
Only with the pale faces must we always maintain 
friendship, since through a white man has this great 
gift come to us. Also from this place, where Wicasta 
himself left it, must his gift never be removed. Here 
will we build a great medicine lodge inclosing the little 
lodge that was his. In it, for all time, shall he kept 
the skin of the white buffalo brought to us by Wicasta 
from the happy hunting grounds. Are the words of 
Peninah pleasing to his brothers ? ” 

The words of Peninah are so good that what he 
says shall be done,” they answered, and then all has- 
tened hack to the waiting village to proclaim the great 
news. 

Presently from every Aricaree lodge there arose such 
sounds of jubilation, such beating of drums and joyful 


THE WAR CRY OF WICASTA 


161 


shoutings as filled with dismay the hearts of the Sioux 
who listened on the bluffs. Already were they greatly 
troubled on account of the strange happenings of the 
night. To begin with, during the storm a thunderbolt 
had killed two of their number and injured others. 
Then, even as they looked fearfully down on the fires 
of many colors blazing in the Aricaree village, there 
had come a whirlwind of galloping hoofs through their 
camp and in a minute half their horses were gone. 
INow, still looking down, they saw a swarm of Aricaree 
warriors, splendidly mounted, brave in paint and the 
flaunting feathers of the great war eagle, ride tumultu- 
ously forth from the village as though confident of 
sweeping all before them, and at the sight the hereto- 
fore stout-hearted Sioux lost courage. Something had 
weakened their medicine, and it was the part of wis- 
dom to retreat while they might, rather than stay to be 
wiped out. 

This was not a decision, but a common impulse, and, 
obeying it, the entire Sioux war party was streaming 
across the plain in disorderly flight before the Aricarees 
were clear of their own village. 

Some of the flying Sioux were overtaken and struck 
down, but most of them made good their escape, and 
with these went Koda. The retreat was continued as 
far south as Heart Eiver, where the fugitives found 
another demoralized throng of their own people — men, 
women, and children — who had been driven west of the 


162 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Missouri by Colonel Sibley and bis men from Minne- 
sota, whom the Sioux had defied and challenged to 
mortal combat. Now the latter knew that the strength 
of their medicine had indeed departed, and that for 
the present, at least, their fighting ardor must be re- 
strained. 

So for a time there was peace on the red frontier, 
and one of those most instrumental in bringing it about 
was the father of Hanana, who once had been scalped 
by the Sioux and left for dead in the Land of Great 
Smoke. When, in this condition, he had awakened from 
a dream of his little daughter, during which she had 
clung to him and stroked his face with soft baby hands, 
he had determined for her sake to live. Then he had 
planned a home for her in which she should cheer his 
loneliness. He would find her and take her to it, and 
thereafter his life should be devoted to her comfort and 
happiness. The education that was his should be hers 
also ; for her sake he would seek wealth, and sometime 
he would carry her back to the land of those social 
opportunities that he had thrown away. This was the 
great plan that, in the face of death, had inspired him 
with the determination to live, and to whose perfection 
he had bent his reviving energies. 

At first he had thought of bringing his little daugh- 
ter to dwell with him in the Valley of Mystery, but after 
a few months spent there he realized that, safe and com- 
fortable as it was, it also was too lonely and too remote 


THE WAR CRY OF WICASTA 


163 


from the source of such supplies as he should need. 
Then a chance remark made by Blue McHarty had 
turned his thoughts in a new direction, toward a place 
within reach of the resources of civilization, which at 
the same time promised equal safety with his Valley 
of Mystery. 

He had set forth to find this place, and in face of 
many difficulties he had at length succeeded. Then he 
had spent the remainder of the summer in preparing 
Castle Cave,’’ as he called this new refuge, for the 
reception of inmates, for he hoped to bring Koda to it 
as well as Hanana. He made a trip to Fort Berthold, 
beyond the great bend of the Missouri, where he pro- 
cured certain things he needed from the post trader, 
and arranged to have others sent up to that point from 
St. Louis. Also he devoted much time to the interior 
arrangement of the series of caverns that he proposed 
to convert into a residence. He enlarged some of the 
connecting passages and closed others. At several 
points he discovered thin places in the rocky walls where 
he could cut openings to serve as windows and for better 
ventilation. He found a crevice that would serve as a 
chimney, constructed a fireplace beneath it, and col- 
lected a large store of dry wood. 

In all this time he tried to plan for an undetected 
visit to the Aricaree village, from which he was only 
about fifty miles distant, and the bringing away of 
Hanana. Also he would bring Koda if she would 


164 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


oome, though he doubted if her training would permit 
her to accept as a husband one legally dead and without 
any rights that an Indian was bound to respect. 

While still undecided as to what he should do in 
this direction, Knighton ran across the trail of a large 
Sioux war party one evening as he was returning from 
a hunt, well beyond the limits of the Dog Dens, and 
followed it to a place where the Indians were halted 
until the moon should rise. Here he succeeded in creep- 
ing close enough to a circle of warriors to hear scraps 
of their conversation. It needed hut a few words to 
enlighten him as to their destination, which he thus 
discovered to he the Aricaree village of Chief Two 
Stars. 

Without waiting longer he slipped away and has- 
tened back to Castle Cave where he made up a pack of 
the few things that he deemed necessary, and by dawn 
he had started for the Missouri. The Sioux were so far 
ahead of him that by the time he had crossed the river 
and gained a place of concealment about a mile from the 
village, fighting between them and the Aricarees had 
been in progress for half a day. 

Under cover of darkness Knighton made his way 
among the gathered lodges, and by listening to the con- 
versation of excited groups soon learned all that he 
wanted to know. The Aricarees were badly demoral- 
ized and apprehensive of what might happen on the 
morrow, since their enemies were possessed of the 



Leading them on a 


furious charge. 







THE WAR CRY OP WICASTA 


165 


powerful medicine of a white buffalo skin, which they 
themselves had been unable to secure. 

The outcast crept through the darkness to the lodge 
that once had been his, and from its interior there came 
voices that he recognized as belonging to his wife and 
little daughter. Also there came the voice of a man 
whom he discovered to have taken his place as husband 
and father. At the same time the sounds did not indi- 
cate that this warrior held either his wife or step- 
daughter in very high esteem. 

A storm was imminent, and Knighton, sneaking 
like an enemy’s spy among those whom, he held as 
friends, determined to make the effort to recover 
Hanana under cover of its turmoil. Also he proposed 
to produce an effect that should attract general atten- 
tion in a certain direction and so give him the chance 
of working in another. 

An hour later, amid the bowlings of a tempest that 
had broken more quickly than he expected, and with 
his preparations for a spectacle still incomplete, he 
suddenly heard a cry that thrilled him as could no 
other on earth. It was the voice of his own child call- 
ing upon him for help and he was quick to respond. 

The situation was revealed by a flash of lightning, 
and instantly recognizing his bitterest enemy, the man 
felled him with a blow, even as he snatched away the 
struggling child. Then he ran back to the hut, hastily 
completed his preparations, lighted two fuses, and filled 


166 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


witli exultation at the marvelous good fortune attend- 
ing him, he uttered thrice the thrilling war cry that he 
believed would still be remembered as his in that 
Aricaree village. 

Even while it mingled with the screech of the storm, 
he had departed with that which was dearest to him 
of all the world, his own little daughter, clasped 
tightly in his powerful arms. Quickly they ran to the 
place where Don Felix impatiently awaited them, and 
a few minutes later he was leading them on a furious 
charge through the herd of Sioux ponies beyond the 
bluffs. 


CHAPTEK XIX 


zeph’iite and eamily 

About the time that the discomfited Sioux, who had 
been scared away from the Aricaree village, were ex- 
changing condolences on the Heart Kiver with their 
fellow tribesmen, a quaint little procession was slowly 
making its way eastward from Port Berthold, one hun- 
dred miles farther north. It was led by a large man 
clad in buckskin, wearing a fur cap, and riding a superb 
black stallion. These, of course, were Arnold Knighton 
and Don Eelix. Sometimes the former bore in his arms 
a small bit of femininity having brown hair, red cheeks, 
and merry blue eyes that contracted to merest slits 
with laughter, but which could open wide enough with 
sober astonishment. Hanana was dressed in a little 
frock, leggins and moccasins of softest fawn skin, 
whitened with pipe clay and stained in bright colors. 
About her neck was a collar of heads, and the braids of 
her hair were tied with hits of scarlet ribbon. 

The child was as full of energy as a steel spring, 
and even in her father’s arms was the epitome of per- 
petual motion. Xow she was patting his cheeks, pulling 
his beard, lifting her own face to be kissed, or simply 
167 


m 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


jumping up and down in an exuberance of spirits. 
Then she would devote her whole attention to Don 
Felix, reaching down to pluck at his glossy mane, 
snatching at the bridle rein, or kicking him with her 
little moccasined feet to increase his speed, while always 
she chattered in a curious mixture of Sioux, Aricaree, 
and English words, uttering shrill little cries of over- 
flowing joy and bubbling with laughter. 

Already she seemed to have forgotten the past and 
to be completely reconciled with the present. She was 
not quite three years old, and so her affections were 
not yet very deeply rooted. This new papa with blue 
eyes like her own, who always smiled at her and never 
struck her, and allowed her to do exactly as she pleased, 
was infinitely preferable to the one she was forgetting 
as fast as possible. As for the mother who had so mys- 
teriously gone out of her life, was she not already re- 
placed by Zeph’ine who was much fatter and more 
comfortable, and jollier, and altogether more desirable ? 
Besides, Zeph’ine always rode in the cart with those 
delightful puppies, and Hanana could go to her any 
moment she chose. She had found that out. All she had 
to do, when riding with the big man who answered to 
the name of “ papa,” was to pretend weariness or thrust 
out her under lip with a whimper, and, presto! the 
change was made. Almost instantly she would find her- 
self cuddling down in Zeph’ine^s broad lap, perhaps with 
the puppies scrambling over her, with her head pillowed 


ZEPH’INE AND FAMILY 


169 


against Zepli’ine’s warm bosom. Then the latter would 
croon some quaint Breton melody, while the ungreased 
wooden wheels of the cart turning on ungreased wooden 
axles shrieked what to Hanana’s untutored ear sounded 
a most melodious accompaniment. In a minute she 
was sound asleep, and until she woke again the little 
procession would jog along without interruption. For 
that was all there was to it, the big man on Don Felix, 
and the covered Bed Kiver cart holding Hanana, 
Zeph^ine, the puppies, with their mother, and ever so 
many other things. It was drawn by Babette, a very 
small mule, at whose head generally walked Simon 
Lefevre husband of Zepherine. 

Also Simon was owner of the cart, which he had 
built, and of Babette, whom he had stolen from an 
emigrant train ; but that was a long time ago and nobody 
remembered it now. Besides, the emigrants thought 
he was an Indian, and so he was — half Indian, half 
French-Canadian, a combination that, according to his 
own code of morals, gave him the right to steal horses 
or mules from both sides whenever the opportunity 
offered. 

Simon and Zepherine, who was not a breed ’’ at all 
but of pure French-Canadian blood from the Province 
of Quebec, lived at Pembina, where they owned, or 
rather claimed, a piece of land that they called a farm, 
but Simon was so much more a hunter and trapper than 

he was a farmer, that he never could find time to work 
12 


170 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


his land. I7or did they have a house, for what need 
had they of one so long a^ they owned a cart, with 
Babette to pull it here and there all over the world? 
In the early summer of that year they had gone on a 
buffalo hunt that finally brought them to Fort Berthold 
where they disposed of a cart load of skins. While they 
lingered at the post a steamboat came down the river 
bound for St. Louis, and instantly Zepherine declared 
her intention of taking a wedding trip to that city of 
her dreams. 

Mais Zeph’ine ! ” exclaimed the astonished Simon, 
already have you been dix ans une marieeJ^ 

“ Wimporte/^ answered Zepherine. It is that I 
have not had him, so now I will take him.’’ 

''Mais moil I do not care for the treep of the 
nouveau mariee/' 

“ Piff ! you is not invite. With myself will I go 
on the hon voyage/^ 

So Zepherine went on that very steamboat as 
stewardess, while Simon remained behind employed as 
one of the hunters of the post for the summer. 

In the autumn, when Zepherine returned from the 
great trip of her life, she had not only spent for finery 
in the wonderful city all the money she had earned, but 
she was in debt to the steamer nearly twenty dollars — 
a debt she had sworn should be paid by her husband at 
Fort Berthold. 

But Simon also was in trouble. In the absence of 


ZEPH’INE AND FAMILY 


171 


all restraint the summer had been for him a season of 
eating, drinking, and much merriment, which latter 
included the playing of a fascinating game of cards 
taught him by the soldiers. It had promised to make 
his fortune, hut the mere learning of it had cost him 
all his wages, and everything he owned, including 
Bahette and the cart, except Pamint, his dog, and her 
litter of pups, that no one would have. He had been 
allowed to retain the use of Bahette and the cart upon 
promising to pay the claim against them out of Zeph- 
erine’s wages as soon as her steamboat came back up 
the river. 

Alas! when it arrived it brought only despair. 
He could not pay Zepherine’s bills and she could not 
pay what he owed. The man who claimed Bahette and 
the cart was on hand to take them away, while the 
steamboat captain declared that until Madame Lefevre 
had worked out her indebtedness she should not be 
allowed to leave the boat. This meant that she must 
at least travel as far as distant Port Benton and back 
again — a journey that she knew abounded with the most 
frightful dangers. In vain did the distracted woman 
weep and expostulate. She even offered to turn over 
to the hard-hearted captain her entire collection of beau- 
tiful pinchbeck jewelry acquired in St. Louis, except, 
of course, her St. Simon earrings of solid brass, the 
necklace of gilt saints, certain brass combs surmounted 
by little tinkling bells, and the rings that already were 


172 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


on her fingers. The captain politely refused to deprive 
her of her ornaments, and insisted oh having his money 
or her services. 

In vain did Simon stamp his feet and tear his hair 
in fury, at the same time swearing many strange half- 
breed oaths. He even offered Pamint, with all her 
puppies, in exchange for his wife, hut le Capitaine 
de navire sans coeur declined the offer. Then, in a 
fury of despair, Simon plucked forth a knife and the 
captain met it with a leveled pistol. The affair had 
reached a serious crisis, and it was high time for the 
amused spectators to interfere. One of them, a big 
man wearing a fur cap, did so, stepping forward with 
a proposition that would at once settle all difiiculties. 
He wanted a first-class trapper to work for him during 
the coming winter, also he wanted a woman to look after 
his little motherless girl. Furthermore, he was in need 
of a cart and mule to transport to his place of residence 
on the road to Pembina certain articles of freight that 
had just come to him by that very steamboat. If Simon 
and his wife chose to engage themselves to him for the 
winter he immediately would settle madame’s little bill 
on the steamboat, reclaim the cart and Babette, and 
allow the Lefevres to work out the indebtedness thus 
incurred at a liberal rate of wage, with board and lodg- 
ing thrown in. Did such a plan meet with their 
approval ? 

“ Monsieur, certainly thou art of the blessed 


ZEPH’INE AND FAMILY 


173 


saints ! ” cried Zepherine, who, in the fullness of her 
gratitude, would have flung her arms about the deliver- 
er’s neck, had he not stepped hastily hack. Without 
doubt will we accept thy most generous offer, me and my 
man. As for la pauvre Hite of no mother, there is noth- 
ing in all the world so dear to me. Silence, Simon! 
Already have you made trouble enough. Now it is I, 
moi meme, who will extricate thee from thy stupid 
difiiculties.” 

So it came about that on the following morning the 
little procession, already described, set forth from Fort 
Berthold and wound its slow way eastward over the 
trackless plains. Two days later it reached the grass- 
covered hills of the Coteau du Missouri, and after a 
rest on the shore of Strawberry Lake, it turned in the 
direction of certain rugged buttes. 

Is not this the den of the dog, Maison au Chienf '' 
asked Simon. 

Yes,” replied Knighton, and also it is where I 
make my home.” 

SacrehleUy Monsieur ! But it is a place terrible, 
of evil reputation and great danger. Surely one may 
not think of dwelling here ! ” 

That’s where you are mistaken, for I think of it. 
I have dwelt here in the past and intend doing so in 
the future. But what is the matter? Surely a brave 
man like you is not going to be frightened away by idle 
tales of superstition.” 


174 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Monsieur, not me. I am a brave man, but 
for the sake of my family, my Zephhne, whom also I 
must consider.” 

“ Have I not a family as well ? Do you think I 
would bring my daughter into a place of danger ? ” 

But she is very little. Monsieur. Of my Zeph’ine 
there is much more to be considered.” 

Hola Simon ! ” called a voice from the cart, which 
had stopped during this controversy, what for you 
mek so great talk ? ” 

With a few words from Hanana’s father and many 
from Lefevre, the trouble was explained and judgment 
promptly was rendered. 

'' BUe! Poltron! Cochon! '' cried Zepherine, ad- 
dressing these fond terms to her husband. Do you 
think I shall stop here all night for your foolishness? 
Uavancer ! Marchon^ quick ! ” and without another 
word the half-breed moved on. 

If he had given in here, however, he was stubbornly 
determined not to do so when the destination of the 
little party finally was reached, and, to his horror, he 
discovered his employer’s place of abode to be a cavern. 
Doubtless it was the very one leading to the center of 
the earth and guarded by spirits of the under world, 
concerning which he had heard frightful tales from his 
Indian friends. 

Ho, Monsieur,” he said decisively, I will not en- 
ter by so much as one of my feet cette caverne. Always 


ZEPH’INE AND FAMILY 


175 


have I dwelt on the top of the world, and so I shall 
while I am live. After, mayhe, who can tell? But 
now, no.” 

Even Zepherine’s confidence in Hanana’s father was 
shaken when he proved to be a cave dweller, and she 
declared in favor of her husband’s position. Monsieur 
might go into his caverne if he chose. Even he had the 
power to take with him la Hite ange, his child, though 
against this she would never cease to protest; but she 
herself would not, for one moment, he buried in the 
gTOund while she breathed. E’er should Simon, her 
husband, Bahette, her mule, Pamint, her dog, to say 
nothing of the puppies, even look into so dreadful a 
place. 

In vain did Arnold Knighton dilate upon the safety, 
the warmth, and the abounding comforts of his cavern. 
In vain did he hint at the obligations his companions 
had assumed in entering his employ. Zepherine was 
inflexible in her determination. They would stay with 
him, though his chosen place of residence was by no 
means what it should be, and work out their pecuni- 
ary indebtedness according to agreement. While do- 
ing this they could very well live in their cart, but 
they had not agreed to become cave dwellers and they 
would not. 

During this discussion Simon smoked his pipe in 
moody silence. Kot that he did not have plenty to say, 
but his wife sternly ordered him to close his mouth 


176 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


every time he opened it, and he had long ago learned 
the wisdom of obedience. 

So the little community of the Dog Dens was 
divided into two households. Arnold Knighton, the 
little Hanana, Don Kelix, and one of the puppies that 
had been presented to the child before they left Kort 
Berthold, occupying Castle Cave, and the Lefevres, 
with Babette, Pamint, and the remaining puppies 
living in a log hut that had been erected for them on 
the very hillside from which Knighton had made his 
first discovery of Fox Gate. Much as he regretted this 
division it had one redeeming feature. This was that 
he had not been obliged to divulge the secret of the 
Rocking Rock. 


CHAPTEE XX 


A GLIMPSE OF BLUE McHARTY 

Leaviitg for a time Castle Cave and the life devel- 
oping there under such strange conditions, let us take 
another long ’^'ourney to the westward, quite as far 
as the Land of Great Smoke, but some two hundred 
miles to the north of that interesting region, and ad- 
vance our time by almost a year. Thus we find our- 
selves at Fort Benton, the head of steamboat navigation 
on the Missouri, the most western Government post of 
the red frontier, and one of the very busiest points on 
the great river. In addition to a strong body of troops, 
here were gathered fur traders, trappers, and hunters 
of the Eocky Mountains for the interchange of peltries 
and goods. Indians of a dozen tribes met here on 
neutral ground, travelers and explorers at this point 
cut loose from the last vestige of civilization and 
plunged into the profoundest depths of an uncharted 
wilderness. Also this was the center from which were 
conducted the very first of those mighty mining opera- 
tions that have made Montana one of the greatest pro- 
ducers of mineral wealth in the world. From Fort 
Benton the hardy prospector set forth with pick, shovel, 
and pan, in search of the placer diggings that should 
177 


178 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


yield him a fortune. To it he returned after months 
of weary wandering and desperate toil, to renew his 
supplies and make a fresh start, or bringing the wealth 
that he had so hardly won. 

Every steamboat, arriving or departing, was laden 
to the danger limit with freight and passengers, and 
all had their pilot houses barricaded against Indian 
rifle bullets that were fired at them from unsuspected 
coverts along a thousand miles of bluff, cut-hank, and 
winding shore. During the years of the Civil War 
steamboats were few and far between on the Missouri, 
and nearly every trip was marked by one or more Indian 
attacks, while the price of a passage between the head 
of navigation and St. Louis was so exorbitant that 
only a well-filled purse could meet it. Eor these 
reasons many would-be voyagers down the river pro- 
vided their own craft and took their chances. Thus 
it was no infrequent sight at Eort Benton to see a 
bateau, a skiff, or even a fragile bull boat, setting 
forth on a two thousand mile voyage that was known 
to be beset with all the dangers of both sea and land. 
Sometimes a party of home-returning traders or miners, 
ready to start at about the same date, would join forces 
for the building of a large bateau in which, well armed 
and confident of their own strength, they had little 
fear but what they would get through in safety. 

Such a craft as this, a big, well-equipped, flatboat 
having a tiny cabin aft, and a mast forward, on which 


A GLIMPSE OF BLUE McHARTY 


179 


could be spread a sail for favoring winds, occupied the 
critical attention of a little family party gathered on 
the Fort Benton bluff one summer’s afternoon and look- 
ing down at her. A man of about thirty, self-reliant 
and bronzed by long exposure to sun and weather, 
leaned on a rifle and gazed proudly at the wife and 
children from whom he had been long separated. An 
attractive young woman of reflned features, clad 
simply, as became the wife of a frontiersman, held in 
her arms a crowing babe, while close at hand played 
a sturdy little chap of flve or six whose every feature 
proclaimed him to be her son. 

Oh, Everett ! It seems as though we never should 
get away,” exclaimed the young woman, as she watched 
the efforts of some men who were dragging a small 
cannon aboard the boat. You said we certainly 
would start to-day and here it is almost sunset. I sat 
and waited in that stuffy little cabin until I couldn’t 
stand it a minute longer, and then I came up here.” 

Where I had to come to And you,” replied the man, 
smiling fondly upon the wife who had followed his for- 
tunes into this remote wilderness. “ I really ought to 
be down there helping get that gun aboard and ” 

Instead of which you very properly are looking 
after your family. I am sure there are plenty of men 
down there, unembarrassed by such luxuries, to help 
with that silly cannon. What are we going to carry 
such a thing for, anyway ? ” 


180 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


“ Because, my dear, we also are carrying the most 
precious cargo that has gone or will go down the river 
this season — my wife and children, to say nothing of 
something over twelve hundred pounds of dust worth a 
quarter of a million at ordinary rates, and double that 
amount at present prices, the result of a year’s work 
by twenty men in the diggings, and our share is nearly 
thirty thousand dollars. After our years of poverty 
and hardship isn’t that worth an extra day’s wait and 
the taking of extra precautions ? ” 

Of course it is, Everett, and I am not complain- 
ing. Only now that there is a chance of going hack 
to dear old Kentucky I am perfectly crazy to get there. 
I think it is more for Kenton’s sake than anything else. 
He is shooting up so fast, and I do so want him to be 
a real Kentucky boy. You are a Kentucky boy, aren’t 
you, little son? ” 

Yes, mamma, I is Kentucky boy same as you,” 
replied the sturdy youngster, at which speech his father 
laughed heartily. 

“ I don’t just see how you make it out, Mollie,” 
he said, since the kiddy was born out here in no man’s 
land, while half of him is Yankee, anyhow.” 

Oh, no, Everett! Kot half, nor even a quarter, 
when you consider that he shows Kentucky in every 
single feature.” 

Well, little woman, have it your own way. I 
only thank God that he has a single drop of my Yankee 


A GLIMPSE OF BLUE McHARTY 181 

blood in his veins, when I recall how nearly I missed 
being his father. And that reminds me ! By waiting 
over a day I have heard something that interests me 
exceedingly. You remember Arnold Knighton, of 
course, the dear old chap who brought us together 
after all ? ” 

I remember a Mr. Knighton who very nearly 
separated us forever,” was the reply. 

Well, I’m not so sure. I was a tough proposition 
in those days, there’s no getting around that, and if 
we’d been married as arranged and gone off to Europe, 
I never would have been anything else. As a result you 
would have got rid of me within a year, and no blame 
to you, either, whereas ” 

Everett ! How can you say such things ? ” 

Because they are true. When a man gets so low 
down that his bride has to run away from him, and his 
father feels compelled to disown him, he is too worth- 
less for any decent woman to live with. But that day’s 
business brought me to my senses as nothing else ever 
could, and the first thing I did after all was over, was 
to make four resolutions, that, thanks to your dear help, 
I have been able to keep.” 

Oh, Everett!” 

Yes, that’s right. Without your aid I never 
should have carried out one of them. First, I resolved 
to follow you up and beg for one more chance. Second, 
I resolved to marry you or no one. Third, I resolved 


182 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


that after we were married, or while there was the 
slightest hope of getting you, I would not touch a drop 
of liquor of any description, not even the mildest beer 
that ever was brewed. Fourth, I resolved not to go back 
to my father, nor ask him for one cent of money, until, 
by my own exertions, I had earned at least twenty-five 
thousand dollars. FTow, don^t you see, dear, how it 
has been through you only that I could keep such a set 
of resolutions ? 

But I don’t see, Everett, what Mr. Knighton had 
to do with your resolves.” 

Everything. To begin with, he showed me by 
his own life what a man could make of himself, and 
then, by locking me up on my wedding day, he showed 
how utterly unworthy he thought I was to marry you. 
He gave me the chance to see myself as others saw me, 
and if I live to be a thousand I never shall forget the 
awful shame of that morning.” 

I think he took a great deal upon himself.” 

But, Mollie, he was my best friend, and had done 
more for me than any person in all the world, until I 
met you.” 

<< Why didn’t he answer your letter, then, after we 
were married ? Seems to me a best friend might have 
had something to say at such a time.” 

So I thought, and I have felt badly about it until 
to-day. Kow I am inclined to believe that he had left 
Boston and never received my letter.” 


A GLIMPSE OF BLUE McHARTY 


183 


“ What makes you think so ? 

That is what I started to tell you. A little red- 
headed Irishman^ who for more than a year has been 
a prisoner among the Crows, and only recently escaped, 
came into the fort to-day from Otter Creek, where he 
claims to have been looking for me. It seems that we 
met there about two years ago, though I didnT remem- 
ber him.’^ 

What did he want with you, Everett ? ” 

“ This is the queerest part of it, for he only wanted 
to ask my first name.” 

How perfectly absurd ! Why did he want to 
know ? ” 

“ J ust what I asked him, and he explained that he 
had spent a winter somewhere in the mountains with 
a man who was curious about it. It seems that the 
man had saved his life or something, and so this chap 
feels under an obligation to serve him in any way he 
can. As the only request the man ever made of him 
was for my first name, the little Irishman had promised 
to discover it for him. He had set out for the express 
purpose of asking me, and was captured by the Crows, 
who took such a fancy to his red head that they kept him 
alive on account of it. To-day he was in such a hurry 
to get back to his companion, because of his long ab- 
sence, that he started off as soon as I had answered his 
question, giving me barely time to write a short note.” 

To whom did you write a note ? ” 


184 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


“ To the man who wanted to know my name, of 
course.’’ 

But who is he ? ” 

Oh ! didn’t I tell you ? Well, his name is 
Knighton.” 

Kot Arnold Knighton ? ” 

That is what I asked our Irish friend, but he 
didn’t know. Seemed to think it was Wicasta Knighton, 
or something outlandish like that. Promised to ask 
him as soon as he found him and let me know the next 
time we meet, which I told him isn’t likely to be in this 
world.” 

Everett!” 

“ Well, is it ? I know I never intend to come back 
to these diggings after once I get out of them, and as 
the Irishman said he should start for China the moment 
he had satisfied Mr. Knighton’s curiosity, why, ^ Quod 
erat demonstrandum' which is the only bit of Latin 
that sticks by me after a four years’ course at Harvard. 
That is the reason, by the way, that this Knighton was 
curious about my name, because McHarty told him 
I was a Harvard man, and he said that he, too, had that 
honor.” 

^^Who told him?” 

“ McHarty. The little red-headed Irishman, Blue 
McHarty.” 

What a perfectly absurd name ! Isn’t it a funny 
name, Kenty boy ? ” cried the young mother, throwing 


A GLIMPSE OF BLUE McHARTY 


185 


one arm about her little son and drawing him to her. 
“ Blue McHartj. Red-headed Blue McHarty. Such 
a funny, funny name.” 

Red-headed Boo McHarty,” lisped the child, at 
the same time laughing heartily because his mother did. 

At that moment came a startling flash and a roar 
from the little fleldpiece that, without their notice, had 
finally found its place in the flatboat of the gold miners. 

Hurrah ! ” shouted Everett Wester. That’ s the 
signal for starting. We’re going to get off to-day, after 
all. Hurry, Mollie. Come on, Kenton boy. All 
aboard! And then down, down, down, the river for 
home.” 


13 


CHAPTEK XXI 


m THE SHADOWS OF THE PAIHTED WOODS 

Slowly the gold bateau swung out from the Port 
Benton landing, as though reluctant to set forth upon a 
voyage at once so long and so hazardous. A crowd of 
spectators, some merely curious, others envious, and 
many choking back the homesickness inspired by the 
sight of this homeward bound argosy, cheered the de- 
parting voyagers, and shouted after them farewell 
messages. On the boat itself twenty gold diggers, one 
woman, and two children, made cheerful answer, and 
then happily turned their hopeful faces down the great 
river. 

At one long-hladed oar Everett Wester pulled with 
stout arms, and his wife smiled approval as she watched 
him. 

Xentyhoy, it is too good to he true ! ” she cried, 
snatching up her little son in a tumult of joy. See 
that water, honey ? It is just going to flow on and on 
and on until it washes the shores of dear old Kentucky, 
our home, yours and mine, papa’s and the baby’s. And 
all we have to do is just to stay in this very boat and be 
good and patient till the water takes us there.” 

At this moment the sunset gun boomed from the 
186 


IN THE SHADOWS OF THE PAINTED WOODS 187 

fort they had left, and in answer their own little field- 
piece roared hack a last farewell. 

Boo McHarty ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! ” shouted the 
boy in an ecstasy of delight, instantly associating the 
sound of the hateavfs gun with the funny name im- 
pressed upon him by the first hearing of its voice. 

I hope Mr. McHarty isn’t quite so noisy as that,” 
laughed the happy mother. But now, sonny, let’s go 
into the cabin and get papa’s supper ready, for he sure 
is going to be hungry after all that rowing.” 

Day after day and week after week the gold- 
freighted craft glided on down the ever-broadening 
river, sometimes sped by favoring breezes, again urged 
by splashing oars, and often simply drifting with the 
current. Occasionally its passengers exchanged their 
cramped quarters for a night’s camp on shore, but not 
often. They were afraid of Indians and they hated 
to lose time. So for days together they never left their 
boat, and some of them grew irritable with the tedium 
and deadly monotony of the voyage. They became 
suspicious, too, perhaps not of each other, but of all 
strangers, and to avoid questions they passed, without 
stopping, the trading posts of Fort Peck and Fort 
Union, and when Indians appeared on the bank they 
threatened them with their guns. Sometimes shots 
were exchanged, and though no one on board the boat 
was hit, the general feeling of uneasiness was thereby 
increased. 


188 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


At length, after a month of this weary voyaging, 
the gold flathoat reached Fort Berthold, and was tied 
to the landing with half of its great journey completed 
so safely that its crew had acquired much confidence 
in their own skill both as navigators and Indian fight- 
ers. Thus they were in a state of mind to make light 
of the warnings here given them concerning the dan- 
gers they still must encounter. Only two of them went 
on shore to purchase supplies at the post trader^s store, 
and the remainder of the crew, standing guard over 
their boat, refused to allow any person to hoard her. 

A young Aricaree warrior, who was no other than 
our old friend Peninah, strolled down to the landing 
and attempted to give a warning against certain hands 
of Sioux who were camped in the Painted Woods ; hut 
the self-confident guards refused to listen and drove 
him away. For all they knew, he himself might he a 
Sioux. Anyhow, he was an Injun,’’ and as such 
must not he allowed to approach their treasure. 

When those who had gone to the store returned 
with their supplies, they also brought warnings against 
the Sioux of the Painted Woods. 

Oh, pshaw ! ” exclaimed one gruff old miner, 
that’s just a trick to frighten us into stopping here, 
maybe for weeks, while these traders sell us goods at 
their own price. I’ve heard of such things being done 
before. We’ve come through a blamed sight worse 
Injun country than any lying ahead of us, and I for 


IN THE SHADOWS OF THE PAINTED WOODS 189 


one say, push on without taking any notice of these 
scarecrows, Injun that ever lived dares make 

fight in front of a cannon, and that^s just what weVe 
got waiting for ^em.” 

As this man voiced the general sentiment the stop 
at Tort Berthold was promptly cut short, and the adven- 
turous voyage was resumed. The lone woman passen- 
ger, nervously exhausted by the hardships already en- 
countered, was at once disappointed and relieved. She 
had hoped for a rest on shore at this post, where there 
were ladies, officers’ wives who had followed their 
husbands to the red frontier.” At the same time she 
had dreaded meeting them, for she had no gowns fit to 
wear in civilized society. Also she was impatient to 
push on to the glad ending of the weary voyage. 

How all talk on the bateau was of the Painted 
Woods and their possible dangers. For nearly fifty 
miles this famous belt of timber extended along the 
eastern bottom lands of the Missouri, just below its 
great bend. For more than a century it had been dis- 
puted ground, claimed by both Sioux and Aricaree. 
In the long ago a great peace council of all the northern 
tribes had been summoned to meet at this place, and 
here, for many days, on the shores of a lovely lake em- 
bowered in the forest shadows, those horn to hereditary 
hatred had feasted and mingled together on friendly 
terms. The hosts of the occasion, Aricarees and Man- 
dans, dwelling in near-by villages, were first on the 


190 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


scene. Then from the far !N^orth came frost-eared 
Assiniboins with their tandem dog teams, and from 
the West the black-legged Arapahoe, well dressed and 
haughty. From the Northwest arrived plumed and 
painted Blackfeet, while with them, as guests, rode their 
long-time foes, the gaudily bedecked Absoraka, or 
Crows, with suspicious hearts and prying eyes. From 
the South came up the Yanktonnais, coldly staring, but 
with silent tongue, and beside them rode their cousins 
of the Ogalalah, mounted on stolen horses. Last of all, 
out of the East, came the hidden-faced Dakotah, Santee 
and Sisseton, looking straight before them and speaking 
only among themselves. 

Buffalo, elk, deer, and antelope were plentiful; the 
Aricaree harvests of corn, squashes, and melons were 
bountiful, and all feasted together in harmony during 
the month of tinted leaves. Then to the feasting also 
came trouble. The most beautiful maiden present, the 
belle of the assemblage, was the daughter of Ossinaway, 
head chief of the Mandans. Many were the suitors she 
had rejected, many the bitter jealousies she had aroused. 
Now came the most ardent lover of all, a bold young 
Santee warrior who, a year earlier, as it unfortunately 
happened, had slain in battle the Mandan girl’s own 
brother. In spite of this she returned his affection, 
and, against the pleadings, the threats, and the com- 
mands of her relatives, she prepared to leave her own 
people, fly with him, and follow his fortunes. He was 


IN THE SHADOWS OF THE PAINTED WOODS 191 

warned of his danger and advised to depart without 
her, but he would not. Then the Mandan chief issued 
his orders, and at midnight, on the shore of the lake of 
the Painted Woods, the young Santee was done to death 
in the very arms of his sweetheart. 

Quickly rang out the fierce war cry, echoing and 
re-echoing through the darkness from lodge to lodge, 
and from hand to band, until all the camps were stirred 
to a mighty uproar. The village criers of the Dakotah 
loudly proclaimed the outrage and demanded vengeance. 
Por answer the comrades of the murdered lover streaked 
their faces with war paint, strung their stout bows, and 
thronged to his rude bier, beside which knelt the heart- 
broken girl. About the unheeding maiden the avengers 
gathered in ominous silence, and, at a signal, her droop- 
ing body was pierced with a hundred arrows. With the 
dawn came war, the bitter intertribal fighting that 
never since has ended. 

The bodies of the murdered lovers were placed to- 
gether among the branches of a mighty elm that stood 
on the shore of the hidden lake. After a little the tree 
withered and died, its bare trunk bleaching to the white- 
ness of bones. About it, for many years, gathered war 
parties to make their final preparations for attack, and 
on the white trunk of the lovers’ tree young warriors 
painted their totem marks, together with other strange 
devices. Their enemies, finding these, painted in turn 
taunting hieroglyphics that in time were spread from 


192 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


tree to tree, until hundreds of trunks were covered with 
rude pictographs done in gaudy colors and filled with 
meaning to the initiated. So the forest by the muddy 
waters became the Painted Woods,” and it has been 
the scene of more bloodshed than any strip of equal 
extent along the whole length of the great river. 

This, then, was the place against which the voyagers 
in the gold bateau had been warned, and which they 
approached on the second night after leaving Port 
Berthold with feelings of mingled apprehension and 
bravado. They had hoped to pass the ill-omened stretch 
under cover of darkness, but dawn found them still 
within its shadows, though near its lower end. Here 
emptied a creek fiowing from the eastward through a 
deep, densely wooded coulee or ravine. Hidden in this 
coulee at the time was an encampment of Santee Sioux, 
still smarting from the terrible punishment recently 
dealt out to them by Sibley’s soldiers. 

A slough, or navigable channel, ran close under the 
cut hank, and outside of it extended a sand bar a mile 
in length, submerged hut a few inches beneath the 
muddy surface. 

On the morning in question, a group of Santee 
women were bathing and washing their clothes on this 
sand bar. At the head of the slough stood an aged 
warrior, peaceably trying to provide himself a break- 
fast by fishing. Prom up the river came sounds of 
voices and of splashing oars. Then a large boat filled 


IN THE SHADOWS OF THE PAINTED WOODS 193 

with people drifted into sight, through the uncertain 
mists hanging above the water. The Indian women 
hurried ashore and, hiding in a clump of willows, 
watched curiously to see it pass. It was headed for the 
swift-water channel that would carry it close under the 
bank. 

The aged fisherman had seen enough of fighting 
between his people and the whites. He wished to avoid 
further trouble of that kind, and noting that the boat 
was inclined to pass close to the hidden camp, he stood 
up and made signs with his pole for it to keep out 
toward the middle of the river where it might go by 
unmolested. 

Perhaps the white men in the boat mistook his 
actions or his motives. Perhaps, in that deceptive 
light, they thought he was pointing a gun at them. Ho 
one knows, nor ever will know, their thoughts or the 
motives that prompted the desperate act of that fatal 
morning. Their last great danger was nearly passed, 
safety was in sight, all they had to do was keep to the 
middle of the river and drift with its current in undis- 
turbed peace. Instead, they chose to try the inshore 
channel, discovered an Indian gesticulating at them, 
and killed him with a rifle shot. As the old man fell, 
the Indian women crouching in the willows fled to their 
encampment screaming that a great boatload of white 
soldiers, who already had killed one of its warriors, were 
about to attack it 


CHAPTEE XXII 


WIPED OUT 

In the confusion that followed the firing of that 
cowardly and ill-advised shot, the gold bateau grounded 
on the upper end of the sand bar from which the old 
Indian had endeavored to warn it away. While striv- 
ing to get their craft once more afloat, straining with 
pole and oar to release it from the deadly suck of the 
sands, the crew suddenly received intimation that they 
had stirred up a hornet’s nest. Injuns ! ” cried one, 
and the others, giving over their efforts, looked where 
he pointed. 

The river hank, a short distance farther down, was 
swarming with warriors desperate from their recent 
sufferings and roused to a new fury by the unprovoked 
murder just perpetrated. Already part of them had 
gained the sand bar, and even as the white men looked, 
these opened fire on the stranded bateau. 

A few hastily fired rifle shots answered them, then 
came a flash, a roar, and they were swept by a tornado 
of bullets that killed a dozen of them outright and 
wounded as many more. As the smoke of the discharge 
rolled away, not an Indian, save only the dead and 
194 


WIPED OUT’! 


195 


helplessly -woimded on the sand bar, was to he seen, 
and yells of triumph rose from the miners. Their joy 
was short-lived, however, for the recoil of the overloaded 
cannon, crammed to its muzzle with bullets, had opened 
seams in the planking of the bateau, and water was pour- 
ing in at a dozen places. 

I^ow, for the first time, did the white men realize 
the seriousness of their situation. They did not dare 
fire their cannon again for fear of further wrecking 
their craft, h^or would they have known in which 
direction to aim it, for not an enemy was to he seen. 
Perhaps, though, the gun had accomplished its purpose 
after all, and perhaps the cowardly redskins, not daring 
again to face it, had taken to flight. Cheered by this 
hope, the crew began to stop leaks and hail out the 
inflowing water. While they were thus engaged, one 
man stood on the mast bench and raised himself to his 
full height for an observation of their surroundings. 
A rifle cracked from a clump of willows, and he fell 
dead to the bottom of the boat. Directly afterward, 
one of the bailers, emptying a bucket over the side, was 
shot through the head. iTo, the enemy had not re- 
treated. The battle was on and must be fought to the 
bitter end. 

The water in the boat was fast reddening with 
blood, rifle shots from river bluff and willow fringe 
poured in with ever-increasing accuracy of aim, though 
not a warrior was to be seen. The whites fired at smoke 


196 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


puffs, and an occasional yell told that a bullet had found 
a mark. On the lower bar, piled with victims of that 
one cannon shot, some squaws were discovered trying 
to succor the helplessly wounded. They were fired 
upon, and one fell dead across the body of her dying 
husband. The others fled, and for a time the sand bar 
lay quiet under the morning sun. 

An hour later attention was called to the fact that 
the Indians were removing their dead and wounded 
from the bar, behind the shelter of a large log that 
apparently had drifted in from the river and grounded 
just where it was most wanted. They could not prevent 
this, and it made no difference anyhow, so no one took 
further notice of the log. The defenders of the boat 
were fully occupied with seeking protection against a 
continuous rifle fire from the bank. 

Suddenly, to their horrified amazement, a volley 
was poured into them from the opposite side, and by it 
a full half of their reduced number were stricken down. 
As the dismayed survivors sprang to that side, they 
saw only the log they already had noted, but now it was 
near at hand, and above drifted a telltale cloud of 
smoke. As they looked, a row of what appeared to be 
feathered heads was cautiously lifted from behind the 
log, and those of the whites who held loaded rifles dis- 
charged them in that direction. 

With this, a dozen naked warriors, howling de- 
risively at the success of their simple ruse, leaped into 



Fighting desperately with pistols and clubbed rifles. 








'-'WIPED OUT^^ 


197 


view, poured in another deadly volley, and made a rush 
for the bateau. At the same moment a couple of bull 
boats put out from the fringing willows on the river 
bank and drifted down to the stern of the doomed 
craft. For five minutes longer the battle raged, the 
few surviving miners fighting desperately with pistols 
and clubbed rifles, but they were too exhausted, the 
odds against them was too great. One by one they sank 
beneath bullet, arrow, and knife-thrust until, at length, 
the dreadful work was ended and every man of the 
crew had fallen. 

Then the exulting savages swarmed aboard, killing 
those in whom still lingered the breath of life, tearing 
off scalps, and snatching up choice bits of booty; also, 
one of their first acts was to tumble overboard the 
cannon that they dreaded and knew not how to use. 

In the little after cabin they found a fainting 
woman, with a dead babe clasped tight, and a wide- 
eyed child standing sturdily over her, as though to pro- 
tect her. These sole survivors were dragged forth and 
taken ashore, but, as they were led toward the Indian 
camp, a squaw, stained with the blood of her husband 
whom she had seen killed a few minutes earlier, slipped 
up behind the white woman and, with a scream of 
hatred, sunk a hatchet in her brain. 

At this the child, who had clung to his mother’s 
skirts, turned with a shrill cry and attacked the mur- 
deress, tooth and nail, with the fury of a panther’s cub. 


198 THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 

Por a full mmute the unequal contest raged, while the 
grim warriors, gathered as spectators, laughed and 
applauded. Then the woman flung the little fury from 
her, recovered her hatchet, and uplifted it to serve him 
as she had served his mother. Ere it could descend, 
another squaw sprang forward, snatched up the child, 
and darted away. 

For a short distance the first woman ran after her, 
the throng of spectators opening to let them pass. 
Then, seeing that she was being distanced, the former 
flung her hatchet with such vicious aim that it struck 
the fugitive in the shoulder. The latter staggered 
under the blow, but recovered and continued her flight. 
In another minute she had disappeared amid the forest 
shadows, and the tragedy of the day was ended. 

The woman who had thus saved and carried away 
the only surviving passenger of the ill-fated bateau 
was no other than Koda, mother of Hanana, and one 
time wife of Wicasta. Ever since losing her own child 
she had been so moody, and so oppressed with melan- 
choly, that many of those with whom her present lot 
was cast, tapped their foreheads significantly. For 
days she would wander apart, ever searching for her 
lost one, and calling her name. Her companions, from 
whom she had become estranged by her long residence 
among the Aricarees, only laughed at her, and attrib- 
uted her strange actions to the admixture of white 
blood in her veins. On the day of the battle with the 


“WIPED OUT’! 


199 


bateau, Koda, as usual, was absent from camp, to which 
she only returned in time to see a white woman killed, 
and a little white hoy about to share his mother^s fate. 
All her instincts prompted her to save the child, and she 
obeyed them. 

The victorious Sioux, after looting the bateau of 
everything they deemed valuable, and disposing of their 
own dead, broke camp, and disappeared from that part 
of the country. They knew nothing of gold dust or its 
value, and supposing that discovered in belts about the 
bodies of the dead miners to be spoiled powder, they 
did not remove it. So the treasure of the gold bateau 
was left, to be taken by any who might discover it, 
or to be swallowed by the engulfing sands. 

At Fort Berthold the first news of the fight was 
received a week after its occurrence, by the post trader, 
from a couple of Mandan hunters who, attracted by a 
cloud of buzzards gathered about the wrecked and 
bullet-torn bateau, had stopped to visit it and study its 
sign ” while on their way up the river. Incidentally, 
they mentioned the curious fact that nearly every 
dead body in the boat was encircled by a belt of black 
sand or spoiled powder. Instantly the trader was on 
the alert. 

That black sand,^’ he said, is great medicine 
for white men though no good for Indians. If you will 
go back to that boat with all speed, and from it bring 
to me every belt of sand you can find, I will give you 


200 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


the finest presents ever handed out to a warrior. Start 
at once. Don’t say a word to anybody about what you 
have seen or where you are going. Only go quick, come 
hack quick, and bring all you can.” 

So the two Mandans returned to the bateau of death, 
still lying in the sorrowful shadows of the Painted 
Woods, stripped every treasure belt from the molder- 
ing bodies, which they then threw into the river, and 
returned with all speed to the silly trader who was 
willing to pay for black sand. To him they handed 
gold dust worth thousands of dollars; to them he gave 
guns, blankets, and trinkets worth one hundred, and 
both parties were well satisfied with the transaction. 

Now the story of the bateau fight was freely told, 
and among those who heard it was Arnold Knighton 
who, completely disguised by a beard that covered his 
face, happened to visit the fort about that time to dis- 
pose of a large accumulation of furs, and send to St. 
Louis another order for goods. 

On the red frontier, during the years of strife be- 
tween original owners of the soil and those who pro- 
posed to possess it by force, such incidents were so 
common that Knighton would not have given this one 
much attention, except that he was proposing to visit 
the Painted Woods on his way back to Castle Cave. 
He wished to explore them and learn something of their 
resources in the shape of beaver, with a view to the next 
season’s trapping. 


WIPED OUT’! 


201 


Thus it came to pass that the next person after the 
two Mandans to visit the wrecked bateau was the out- 
cast warrior, once known as Wicasta. For a long time 
he sat on its bullet-splintered gunwale, speculating as 
to the manner of men who had built it, navigated it thus 
far, and here died in its defense. It was rumored at 
Berthold that there had been a woman on hoard and 
a child, but the Mandans had failed to find any such 
remains. In fact, so close-mouthed had been the people 
of the bateau while at the landing, and so brief was 
their stay, that almost nothing was known at the fort 
concerning them. 

As Knighton saw the boat, it contained no bodies 
and nothing was left to tell of its original owners ex- 
cept black blood stains everywhere. Even the walls of 
the tiny cabin into which he peered were blood spat- 
tered, while its rude furnishings had been smashed and 
torn. As he meditatively poked among the fragments, 
his eye fell on some tattered bits of calico that evidently 
had once formed part of a dress skirt. 

There was a woman on board, then ! ” he ex- 
claimed, and whether she was white, black, or red, 
God help her ! I wonder what became of her and where 
she is now ? ” 

A little later he started to follow up a small stream 
that emptied into the river near the scene of battle, 
and ere he had gone a hundred yards he came upon the 

bleached bones of a human skeleton that his practiced 
14 


202 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


eye instantly informed him was that of a woman. 
Mingled with them were the tiny hones of an infant. 

A white woman ! ” he cried, after a slight examina- 
tion, and her babe. Here, too, are shreds of calico 
patterned like those on the boat. Poor soul! What 
agonies must she have suffered before she came to this 
peace! But she shall have a Christian burial, or at 
least such shift as I can make to give her one, since 
nothing else is left to he done for her.’’ 


CHAPTEK XXIII 


KODA GOES AWAY ” 

To bury those pitiful bones, merely because they 
had belonged to one of his own race, Arnold Knighton 
labored for several hours. At the outset he had no tools 
for digging other than a knife, but, by searching through 
the old Sioux encampment, he found one of those In- 
dian hoes, the shoulder blade of an elk, that he already 
was accustomed to using, and with it he opened a shal- 
low grave among the spreading roots of a great sycamore, 
growing near where the lovers^ tree of long ago had 
stood. Lining it with an armful of sweet grasses, he 
carefully gathered up and laid away all that remained 
of the unknown woman and her babe. With this done, 
he rested for some minutes, gazing into the grave, and 
trying to imagine who and what she had been. Then 
covering her with scented grasses, he filled the cavity 
with earth and above it piled a cairn of small bowlders. 
When all was done darkness had fallen, and he was so 
thoroughly tired that he made his simple bivouac for 
the night close at hand. 

Early in the morning he rode away heading north- 
203 


204 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


east and following a chain of streams that occasion- 
ally widened into ponds where heaver dams had checked 
the flow of water. This route would lead him to Straw- 
berry Lake, not far from his home among the Dog Den 
huttes, from which he had been so long absent that he 
now was impatient to regain it. Until late afternoon 
he rode, flnding plenty of heaver signs, and so satisfy- 
ing himself of the trapping opportunities here pre- 
sented, that he had decided to leave the network of 
waterways, and, attaining open ground, attempted to 
reach Castle Cave that same night when, without warn- 
ing, a startling incident completely changed his plans. 

Over a soft carpet of fallen leaves Don Uelix was 
advancing almost without sound, when suddenly he 
came to a stop, at the same time throwing up his head 
with a snort. His rider, glancing down, caught a 
quick glimpse of a pair of big, frightened eyes and a 
thin little face, apparently bloodstained, hut unmis- 
takably that of a white child. In an instant it was 
gone with only a rustle of the undergrowth to mark 
the direction of its flight. 

Plinging himself from his horse, Knighton started 
in pursuit, his loud crashings through the hushes filling 
the small fugitive with added terror, and inspiring him 
to greater exertion. The chase lasted hut a minute. 
When it ended on the shore of a tiny lake, beside 
which stood a rude shelter of interlaced ^ branches, 
Knighton caught a glimpse of the little figure, as it 


KODA “GOES AWAY 


205 


darted within this place of refuge, and in another 
moment he was stooping and looking cautiously into 
the dusky interior. 

At first he could see only an indistinct form out- 
stretched on the floor of the hut, but gradually this 
resolved itself into the outlines of a woman lying on a 
scanty bed of dry grass, while beyond it peered the 
frightened face of the child he had followed. There 
was no one else, nor was there a sign of even the 
rudest furnishing. Knighton spoke soothingly in Ari- 
caree and Sioux, but received no reply. Then he tried 
English, and promptly was answered by a childish 
voice, trembling but defiant. 

Bad man, go away ! ” it commanded. 

Ko. I am not a bad man,” expostulated the new- 
comer, entering the hut as he spoke. I am a good 
man, and I have come to help you. What is the matter ? 
Is your mamma sick ? ” 

My mamma gone,” answered the child. Mamma 
Koda pretty sleepy.” 

At the name Koda ” the man started, and bending 
over the recumbent form, regarded it intently. He now 
could see that the woman was an Indian clad in deer- 
skins; and, as he studied her emaciated features, the 
fact slowly impressed itself upon him that she indeed 
was Koda, his one-time wife and the mother of Hanana. 
She lay with open eyes and, in spite of his disguising 
beard, evidently recognized him, but, as evidently, she 


206 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


was without the powers of speech or motion, and her 
breathing was barely perceptible. 

In this emergency Knighton hurried to where he 
had left Don Kelix, and, returning with the horse, took 
a small flask from one of the saddle pockets. A few 
drops of its contents, forced between the woman’s teeth, 
gave her a trifling access of strength, and she managed 
to whisper the single word Hanana ? ” 

Our little daughter is alive and well, Koda, my 
wife,” replied Knighton, kneeling beside the dying 
woman. She has been with me all the time and I 
shall care for her always. But tell me something of 
yourself and of this child. Where did it come from? 
Whose is it ? ” 

The woman struggled to answer, but could not. 
She could only smile faintly into the man’s face. Then 
her eyes closed and, with a sigh that sounded as though 
it were of great content, she fell into the sleep of utter 
peace. 

For a full minute Arnold Knighton continued to 
kneel beside her with a finger on her pulse, incredulous 
that this life, once so intimately connected with his, 
had passed from it forever. At length came a move- 
ment on the opposite side of the dead woman, and a 
plaintive little voice announced: 

Mamma Koda very sleepy. Kentyboy very 
hungry.” 

So you’re a boy, are you ? ” replied the man. 


KODA ^‘GOES AWAY 


207 


starting from his reverie. And your name is Kenty, 
and you are hungTy? Poor little chap, you look it. 
Yes, Mamma Koda has gone to sleep, and we must not 
wake her. So let’s go outside and find something to 
eat. Will you come with me, Kenty ? ” 

For a moment the child regarded the stranger ear- 
nestly. Then, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny 
of the bearded face, he stepped gravely to where the 
latter knelt, and they left the hut together hand in 
hand. 

The only food just then available was crackers and 
cheese that Knighton had brought from Berthold, but 
he gave the child of these, while he made a fire over 
which to cook something more substantial, and the latter 
ate them with the ravenous hunger of starvation. And 
starvation showed itself in his every feature. His 
cheeks were hollow, his hands were like bird’s claws, 
and his poor little body was so pitifully thin that it 
seemed almost a shadow. Both face and hands were 
stained with the blood-red juice of wild grapes that he 
had been eating when Don Felix first discovered him. 
He was bareheaded, barefooted, and nearly naked, 
only a few remnants of clothing hanging in tatters 
about him, and his body was covered with a network 
of scratches from twigs and briers; but he carried 
himself with an air of sturdy self-reliance that straight- 
way won Arnold Knighton’s heart and compelled his 
admiration. 


208 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Just outside the hut were the cold embers of a fire 
that long since had gone out, and, relighting these, 
Knighton toasted some strips of dried buffalo meat, 
one of which he gave to the boy. The latter, after 
eating it hungrily, ran down to the pond and, lying 
fiat on its edge, took a long drink of water. Then he 
hurried back and asked for more supper. Einally, with 
his hunger satisfied, he became sleepy, and could only 
give the vaguest answers to the many questions by which 
the man tried to learn his history. 

I is Kentucky hoy. I got papa, mamma, and 
sister. They gone away. My name is Kentyhoy. I 
very sleepy and want to go to bed. ^ Kow I lay me — ^ 
Mamma Koda doesnT know ‘ Kow I lay me.’ Isn’t 
that funny ? Yes, I is a dood boy. Is you a dood man ? 
Does you know’ ‘ Kow I lay me ’ ? Ko. I doesn’t love 
Injuns. Bad Injuns make big noise. Boo McHarty 
noise. Doesn’t you know big Boo McHarty noise? 
I does. Boo, Boo, Boo McHarty ! ” 

This was all that could be got out of the child that 
night, for, with the last word, his sleepy eyes closed, 
and nestling trustfully in the strong arms of his new- 
found friend, the little chap drifted away to the land 
of pleasant dreams. 

But his simple prattle had filled the man who held 
him, and who sat motionless that the boy’s slumber 
might not be disturbed, with a tumult of new emotions 
and unanswered questions. 


KODA “GOES AWAY 


209 


“ How could this child have known Blue McHarty ? 
Could there he two Blue McHartys? It did not seem 
likely. So he was a Kentucky hoy and his name was 
^ Kenty.’ Did that mean Kent or Kenton? If the 
latter, could the little chap he of kin with the girl he 
once had loved so hopelessly? It wasn’t probable, of 
course, hut then, he might be. How had he happened 
here with Koda? and how had both of them been re- 
duced to such a pitiable plight ? ” 

While Knighton pondered these things the moon 
rose, and presently the little lake was silvered with 
unclouded light. With this to guide his steps, the man 
gently laid the sleeping child on his own blanket, cov- 
ered him against the night chill, and then went to the 
hut to discover, if possible, the cause of Koda’s death. 
It could not be starvation in this land of plenty, besides, 
he had noted near the fireplace numerous hones of small 
animals, birds, and fish. 

Lifting the fragile body out into the moonlight, he 
quickly found that which he sought. A wound in the 
woman’s hack, that she could not reach to care for, had 
gangrened, and she had died of blood poisoning. Thus 
was the least important of his questions answered. 

He did not want the child to see her again, and so 
he decided to bury the poor, tortured body at once. 
Fortunately, the soil at this point was lighter and more 
easily worked than that in which he had dug for a 
similar purpose on the preceding night, for now he had 


210 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


not even an Indian hoe, but must work with his knife 
and sharpened stakes. It was midnight and the moon 
rode high in the heavens before his sad task was fin- 
ished, and the woman who once had been so much to 
him was put away from mortal view forever. 

After a bath in the lake, at once refreshing and 
cleansing, the man lay down beside the child so strangely 
consigned to his care, and quickly fell into the sleep of 
weariness, leaving only Don Felix on guard. When 
next he awoke, the sun was already up and shining 
brightly. At once he looked to see if his little com- 
panion still slept, but to his dismay the child’s place 
was vacant. 

Springing up in consternation, he was attracted by 
a splashing in the lake and, running to the water’s 
edge, was amazed to see a curly head bobbing on the 
surface full fifty feet from shore. The man’s first 
thought was that the child had waded beyond his depth 
and was drowning. As he was about to plunge in to 
the rescue, the boy caught sight of him and, uttering 
a joyous shout, began to swim in his direction with 
sturdy strokes and the perfect confidence of one for 
whom water holds no terrors. 

Dood morning,” said the little chap politely, as 
he emerged, all dripping, on the beach. “ I’se awful 
hungry, and I’se been ready for breakfus a long 
time.” 

I see you are dressed for it,” replied Knighton, 


KODA “GOES AWAY 


211 


with an amused glance at the tatters of clothing that 
the boy had not deemed it worth while to remove before 
going in for his bath. 

Yes/’ replied the latter gravely. But this isn’t 
my best suit. I only wear that Sundays and in Ken- 
tucky.” 

Where is it now ? ” asked Knighton, thinking thus 
to gain a clew. 

On the boat^” was the prompt answer. 

On what boat ? ” 

Why, the big boat, of course, on the river that goes 
by Kentucky.” 

How did you happen to leave the big boat ? ” 

I just came on shore with my own mamma, but 
she went away somewhere and I couldn’t find her.” 

What happened then ? I mean what did you do 
after your mamma went away ? ” 

“ Came here with Mamma Koda and caught fish — 
oh, such a lot and such pretty ones! But Mamma 
Koda kept getting sleepier and sleepier, and bimeby 
she wouldn’t catch any more fish. Then I got awful 
hungry, and I am now, and I wish she’d wake up and 
get me some breakfus.” 

She did wake up,” answered the man gravely, 
and went away, never to come back.” 

That’s what they all do ! ” exclaimed the child, 
with a sudden petulance. My papa’s gone away, too, 
so now I haven’t got any, unless, perhaps, you’se it,” 


212 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


he added with an after thought, and looking specula- 
tively up at the tall stranger. 

“ I’m going to try and be it, God helping me,” 
answered the man, with a sudden access of tenderness, 
at the same time snatching up the tattered waif, clasp- 
ing him tight in his arms, and kissing him. 

Then,” said the little chap, I wish you would 
give me my breakfus quick, so I can go riding on your 
black horse. I like horses, and he looks like a pretty 
good horse.” 

“ Born and raised in Kentucky sure enough,” 
chuckled the man, as he meekly proceeded to obey 
the order thus issued. 


CHAPTEK XXIV 


THE WAYS OF A MAID 

The boy was not heartless nor devoid of natural 
affection in seeming to forget so quickly those who had 
loved him, and in accepting their unexplained absence 
with such composure. He was too young to realize 
what had happened or the irreparable loss he had sus- 
tained. He did not even know that the dear ones who 
had left him would never again return. During the 
whole of his short life he had been accustomed to pro- 
longed absences on the part of his father, and at the 
time of the fight on the bateau he had been so closely 
confined to the cabin that, beyond hearing the sounds 
of strife, he had little knowledge of what was taking 
place. Consequently he had no idea that his father 
was killed, but merely thought of him as having gone 
away, and due to appear at the proper time. 

Then he had been hurried ashore with his mother 
and little sister, much frightened by the Indians who 
surrounded him. Someone had struck his mother, and 
in a blind fury he had sprung at the aggressor. Then 
someone else had carried him away, and the next thing 
he knew he was leading a delightful, vagabond exist- 
ence, with a person who also claimed to be a mamma, 
213 


214 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


and who, until she grew so very sleepy,’’ proved a 
fair substitute for the mamma who had gone away, 
though, of course, to return to him some time. Now 
Mamma Koda,” as he had learned to call the new 
occupant of that position, had in turn disappeared, and 
a very agreeable papa, who owned a most fascinating 
horse, had taken her place. 

All grown-up people seemed to act in this absurd 
manner, and the boy, after much thought, had come to 
the conclusion that it was because they didn’t have any 
papas or mammas bigger than themselves to teach them 
better. Therefore he was determined to watch this 
present papa very closely, with a view to promptly 
nipping in the bud any attempt at disappearance if it 
included the carrying off of Don Felix. 

Already Kenty had learned the name of the black 
stallion, besides making advances toward a friendship 
that had not been wholly rejected. A little later, to 
his intense satisfaction, he found himself mounted in 
front of his new papa, perched higher in the air than 
he ever had been before, allowed to shake the bridle 
reins as much as he pleased, and riding gayly away 
from the scene of his recent, but already forgotten, 
hunger. He just had eaten a hearty breakfast, had 
reached the summit of his present ambitions, was with- 
out a care, a sorrow, or a regret, and consequently had 
almost attained perfect happiness. He only wished that 
he were sole occupant of the saddle and that the big 


THE WAYS OF A MAID 


215 


man would not persist in attempting to exercise a con- 
trolling influence over those reins. 

Of course, the hoy had no idea of where they were 
going, nor did he care. What with the responsibility 
of managing that horse and the uttering of joyous cries 
at the sight of an occasional distant buffalo, or a fleet- 
ing hunch of antelope, a sneaking coyote, certain prairie 
dogs, owls, and meadow larks, he was so fully occupied 
that he found little time for conversation, much less 
for noting the remarks of his companion. He vaguely 
realized that the big man was talking about a new 
mamma and a new little sister, whose name, as he un- 
derstood it, was Babette, and of various other people 
and things of the remote future that had no earthly 
connection with the glorious present, and consequently 
formed utterly futile topics for conversation. 

After a time the sun grew hot, the motion of the 
horse became monotonous, and under these combined 
influences the little chap gradually lost interest in his 
surroundings, until Anally he was fast asleep in the 
arms of the big man. Of course, he knew that he hadn’t 
really been asleep at all, but had just closed his eyes 
for a moment on account of the sun’s glare, when, an 
hour later, he suddenly was roused by a loud and most 
unaccountable noise close at hand. 

What is it ? ” he demanded, opening his eyes very 
wide and glancing about him, more frightened than he 
would have acknowledged. 


216 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


It is only Babette, singing a welcome home/’ re- 
plied the big man reassuringly. Here we are at last, 
and you have waked up just in time. There’s your 
new sister now, running to meet you. Hello, little 
daughter! Hello, Simon! Id, Zeph’ine! Here is an- 
other waif of the wdlderness for you to pet and mother.” 

As he spoke, the man dropped his burden into the 
arms of the big-hearted Frenchwoman, who already had 
outstretched them to receive it. Then, springing from 
his horse, the fond father picked up Hanana, tossed 
her in the air, and gave her a dozen kisses before again 
setting her down. About the same moment Kenty man- 
aged to escape from the latest candidate for a motherly 
position, and was staring at the little girl with a lively 
curiosity. His knowledge of girls was confined to his 
own baby sister and a few other specimens of similar 
age whom he had encountered, but contemptuously ig- 
nored, at Fort Benton. That girls could grow to be 
so big as this one was a revelation. Also the little maid, 
who was returning his stare with interest, had, as he 
believed, just exhibited a talent that aroused his respect- 
ful admiration. 

Do it again,” he commanded. 

Do what ? ” asked the little girl. 

Sing a song of welcomehome, like you just did.” 

I didn’t. I don’t know what you mean.” 

Yes, you did. This way — ” Here the boy lifted 
his voice in a recognizable imitation of a donkey’s bray. 


THE WAYS OF A MAID 


217 


That wasn’t me ! ” exclaimed the little girl scorn- 
fully. It was Babette.” 

“ You is Babette.” 

lllo, I isn’t. My name is Hanana.” 

“ He said you was Bahette ; and anyhow that’s lots 
prettier than ^ Hanna.’ ” 

It isn’t prettier and it isn’t ^ Hanna,’ ” denied the 
little girl indignantly. Bahette’s just only a mule ; 
but Hanana’s a lady. Zeph’ine says so. I think you’re 
a horrid little boy, and I don’t love you one single bit.” 
Then, shrewdly changing the subject of conversation, 
she added : I wouldn’t love anybody that weared such 
ragged clothes. I should fink you’d be ’shamed of ’em.” 

Huh ! I’se got lots more, best ones, on the boat.” 

What boat?” 

The great big boat I live on. You didn’t ever live 
on a boat, did you ? ” 

“Ho. I wouldn’t. I live in a castle,” answered 
the little maid with a superior air. 

“ I don’t believe it,” was the ungallant reply of a 
young man who had a wide knowledge of castles, gained 
through fairy tales told him by his mother. 

“ I do, too. Come, and I’ll show you.” 

Hothing loath, Kenty promptly accepted this invi- 
tation, and the two children ran together down the 
hillside. At its foot they crossed the little stream on 
stepping-stones, and a moment later had disappeared 

within the Fox Gate. This movement had not been 
15 


218 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


noted by tbeir elders, who, leaving them in amicable 
converse, had entered the Le Fevre cabin to discuss 
some matters of business. 

I doesn’t call this a castle,” sneered the boy, stop- 
ping just inside the dusky entrance. I calls it a cave.” 

Of course, this part where Don Felix lives is a 
cave,” replied the young hostess ; but the other part, 
where I and papa live, is a truly castle, and the whole 
is Castle Cave. Come along, and I’ll show you. You 
needn’t be afraid of the dark, ’cause it’ll get lighter 
pretty quick.” 

Who’s afraid ? I isn’t,” declared the boy, 
promptly dismissing all thoughts of the retreat he had 
meditated but an instant earlier. 

Take hold of my hand,” admonished Hanana, 
and I’ll lead you through the dark places, so you 
won’t fall.” 

ISTo,” retorted Kenty, putting both hands behind 
him. I won’t fall, ’cause I can see in the dark just 
as well as you can. I can see almost as well as a 
kitty-cat.” 

I can spell cat,” boasted the little girl. 

So can I. K-A-T, cat.” 

That isn’t right. It’s C-A-T, cat. The book 
says so.” 

“ I doesn’t care what the book says. How do you 
spell kit ? ” 

K-I-T, kit.” 


THE WAYS OF A MAID 


219 


Well, if kit is K-I-T, then cat must be K-A-T.” 

But the book ’’ 

Who makes books ? ” 

I don’t know,” replied the little girl, who had a 
vague idea that hooks had existed from the beginning 
of all things. I suppose God.” 

N^o,” retorted the boy scornfully. He wouldn’t 
bother. Just grown-up people, like fathers and mothers, 
make books. And they don’t do it till they’s so awful 
old that they’s unremembered most everything they ever 
knew. That’s the way with spelling cat in the book. 
The grown-up that had to do it just forgot how. Do 
you know the difference ’tween a black cat and a 
black hat?” 

Isn’t any.” 

Isn’t any difference ’tween a cat and a hat ? Oh, 
what a silly ! ” 

But you said ” 

J ust here the conversation was interrupted by a cry 
of pain from the boy ; for, in striding valiantly through 
a dim passage, and asserting his independence by not 
following exactly in the footsteps of his feminine leader, 
he had stumbled against a projecting ledge. How he 
sat on the rocky floor, with bitter weepings, tenderly 
nursing a stubbed toe. 

The little girl might have made sarcastic remarks, 
but she didn’t. Instead she soothed him and extended 
a helpful hand, which he meekly accepted and clung to 


220 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


until they emerged into the final daylight of the upper 
opening that led to the Rocking Rock. With the out- 
look thus afforded, the boy acknowledged that Hanana’s 
place of abode did hear certain resemblances to a castle. 

The lower half of the opening had been roughly 
walled up to keep Hanana from venturing out on the 
Rocking Rock. As soon as the hoy saw this he became 
ambitious to surmount the harrier and explore the slope 
lying beyond. With him, to desire a thing was to seek 
its immediate accomplishment, and in less than a min- 
ute he was perched astride the low wall. 

“ Come on ! ” he cried ; let’s go outside and see 
things. I don’t like that old, dark cave, anyway.” 

I can’t,” replied Hanana. My papa told me 
not to.” 

Well, he didn’t tell me not to, and he isn’t my 
father, anyhow. So I’m going, and I don’t think it’s 
very safe for you to be left all alone. There might he 
hears or somefin.” 

What should the, little girl do ? She didn’t want to 
he left all alone with possible hears, and she did want 
to follow that fascinating hoy. She wished to obey her 
father, hut an instinct of hospitality warned her that 
she ought not to neglect her guest nor suffer him to 
wander unprotected amid unknown dangers. 

Wait,” she called. Please come hack ! ” But 
the hoy, paying no heed, began to clamber down the 
other side of the harrier. 


THE WAYS OF A MAID 


221 


I can’t climb all alone/’ cried the little girl de- 
spairingly. How can I come if yon don’t help me ? ” 
At this the boy promptly regained the top of the wall 
and, extending a grimy little paw, said : Hurry up.” 

A few minutes later both children were running 
through the cheerful sunlight up the rocky incline, im- 
patient to see what lay beyond. Suddenly, when they 
were almost at the top, there came a dreadful noise, 
together with an awful movement of the solid rock be- 
neath them, and they sat down very quickly, clinging 
to each other in terror. When all was again quiet and 
they dared once more to look about them, they saw a 
gentle grassy slope close at hand, and hastened to gain 
it, for the rock they just had traversed seemed too 
unstable to be trusted. 

I specs bofe of us together was too heavy for that 
old rock,” suggested the boy. Anyhow, I don’t like 
old rocks, and I fink we’d better not try it any more.” 

But I want to go back to my own castle,” objected 
the little girl, with a suspicion of tears in her blue eyes. 

You may, but I sha’n’t,” declared the boy, start- 
ing down the grassy slope as he spoke. 

Oh, wait ! wait for me ! ” cried the little girl, run- 
ning after him ; and then, hand in hand, they wandered 
forth together into the great unknown world. 


CHAPTEE XXV 


A DESEETEE OF SEVEEAL NAMES 

With all thought of consequences cast to the winds, 
the children ran happily down the grassy slope, one of 
them glad to have escaped from the gloom of Castle 
Cave, and both thankful to get away from a place where 
the apparently solid earth groaned and moved beneath 
them. When they reached the bottom, the little girl 
wanted to turn in one direction, which happened to he 
the one leading toward the home they wished to find, 
while the boy declared in favor of the other. Even- 
tually they took the other, and continued to penetrate 
deeper and deeper into the wilderness as fast as their 
little legs could carry them. At the summit of every 
rise they rested and gazed eagerly about them for indi- 
cations that they were approaching the Le Eevre cabin. 
Then, as none was presented, they would hurry down 
the farther side, and hopefully climb the next hill. Or 
perhaps they would continue down the valley to its 
mouth and then turn whichever way appeared the 
easier. 

So they wandered, ever growing more weary and 
footsore and bewildered, until, to their dismay, the sun 
222 


A DESERTER OF SEVERAL NAMES 


223 


set and dusky night-shadows began to enfold them. 
^N’ow, not only were they exhausted, but they were thor- 
oughly frightened as well ; and, throwing herself on the 
ground, the little girl began to cry. The boy shared 
her unhappiness and easily could have joined his tears 
with hers but for an instinct of manliness that forbade. 
He was the stronger, and must be the protector, assum- 
ing a cheerful confidence he was far from feeling. So 
he nestled beside his weeping companion, and, throw- 
ing a comforting arm about her neck, attempted con- 
solation. 

DonT cry,’’ he urged, ’cause the bears might 
hear you. If we keep awful still, they can’t never find 
us in the dark.” 

Can’t bears see in the dark ? ” inquired the little 
girl with a show of interest. Kittys can, and owls.” 

JSTo, of course not. In the dark bears is just as 
blind as mice.” 

Is mice blind ? ” asked the child, to whom the 
fairyland of nursery rhymes was an unknown region. 

Course they is. Don’t you know ^ Three blind 
mice, see how they run ’ ? ” 

What did they run for ? ” 

’Cause their tails was cut off.” 

Who cut ’em off ? ” inquired the little girl, no 
longer sobbing, but sitting up and full of curiosity. 

Why, the farmer’s wife with a carving-knife, of 
course. Didn’t you know that ? ” 


224 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


I don’t know what a farmer’s wife with a carving- 
knife is. Tell me.” 

Oh, dear ! What a lot of fings you don’t know ! ” 
sighed Master Wisdom. I specs it’ll take you years, 
and years, and years to find out all the fings I know, 
and then I don’t believe you’ll know ’em all.” 

Tell ’em to me now, this very minute, every one 
of ’em,” demanded Miss Eager to Learn. 

Well, I knows Baa-Baa, Black Sheep, and Ding- 
Dong Bell, and Eicketty, Eicketty, Eee, and ” 

I is a ’Eicaree,” interrupted the little girl. 

What’s a ’Eicaree ? ” 

Don’t you know that ? ” inquired Hanana with an 
air of surprise. “ Why, ’Eicaree is the most people in 
all the world. They’s more than Sioux.” 

What is a Sioux ? ” 

Don’t you know that either ? I fought you knowed 
everything. My mamma Koda is a Sioux.” 

Mamma Koda’s my mamma,” cried the boy. I 
mean, she was my mamma, only she isn’t now, ’cause 
she’s gone away. If she’s your mamma, too, we must 
be bruvvers.” 

You mean sisters,” corrected the little girl. 

I don’t mean sisters, ’cause I wouldn’t be a sis- 
ter,” declared the young man. Then, hastily, to ward 
ofi further discussion of a knotty problem, he asked; 

Is mamma Koda your mamma now? ” 

Ko, Zeph’ine’s my mamma now, and I want to 


A DESERTER OF SEVERAL NAMES 


225 


see her awfully, ’cause I is hungry and cold and sleepy 
and scared and everything.” 

With this pathetic statement Hanana resumed her 
sobbing, and the boy realized that all his efforts toward 
restoring cheerfulness had gone for naught. As he 
gazed despairingly about him, wondering what he 
should do next, his eye caught a gleam of light, and 
he sprang to his feet with a shout. 

There’s home ! ” he cried, and the supper fire.” 

Instantly all sobbing ceased and Hanana stood be- 
side her companion, gazing eagerly at the light that was 
rapidly developing the proportions of a camp-fire, ap- 
parently near at hand. As the children hurried toward 
it, chattering excitedly, a sudden hail came from that 
direction. 

Who goes there ? Halt, or I’ll fire ! ” shouted a 
nervous voice; and, almost as the words were uttered, 
the echoes of the Dog Dens were roused to thunderous 
reverberation by the report of a Spencer carbine that 
roared through the still night like a young cannon. For 
an instant the children paused; but, as no harm had 
come to them, and as both were well used to the sound 
of firearms, they quickly advanced again, and before 
he who had fired was ready for another shot they were 
within the circle of firelight. 

Great Scott ! ” cried the man. They’re children, 
and white at that! What are you doing here, sonny? 
Where’s your folks ? ” 


226 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


But the newcomers, filled with a bitter disappoint- 
ment at finding only this stranger, merely stared at him 
in silence. 

I mean, whereas your father and mother ? You 
haven’t got lost, have you ? ” 

They’s gone away again,” replied the boy in a 
resigned tone, finding his tongue at last, and I specs 
you’s it now. Anyhow, I’s hungry and want my 
supper.” 

I is hungry, too,” piped up the little girl. And 
I want my supper and Zeph’ine.” 

Well, if this don’t beat the Dutch!” ejaculated 
the stranger, who was a red-headed young fellow, clad 
in a fiannel shirt, faded army-blue trousers, and quar- 
termaster’s brogans. Two little kiddies out here in the 
wilderness, like they’d dropped from the sky. What’s 
your name, sonny ? ” 

Kentyboy,” was the prompt reply. And she’s 
Hanna. Is you Boo McHarty ? ” 

Is I who ? ” asked the bewildered man. 

Boo McHarty — Bedhead Boo McHarty.” 

Hot that I know of, I ain’t. What made you 
think I was him ? 

’Cause you is a redhead and makes a big Boo 
McHarty noise.” 

I want my supper,” persisted the little girl. 

You shall have it, sissy. I was just a-going to 
bile a kettle. All I’ve got is sowbelly, hard-tack, and 


A DESERTER OF SEVERAL NAMES 


227 


coffee; but, such as it is, you’ll be welcome. I’ll have 
it ready in a jiffy.” 

As the speaker turned to make good his word he 
nearly tumbled over backward with terror at sight of 
a big man, clad in buckskin, who, with moccasined feet, 
had approached so noiselessly that he had entered the 
circle of firelight undiscovered. The proprietor of the 
camp made a spring for his carbine ; but, without notic- 
ing him, the big man snatched up Hanana, who already 
had uttered a joyful shout of Papa! ” and was hold- 
ing her tight. 

Thank God, little daughter, that I’ve found you ! ” 
he cried. How could you run away and leave me ? ” 

I didn’t run away, papa. I only showed Kenty 
the Castle, ’cause he said we didn’t have any. Then 
he wanted to go home another way, and I had to go, 
too, so he wouldn’t get lost.” 

Then you are the runaway, are you, you young 
villain ? ” asked the big man, turning to the little chap. 

Ho, I isn’t a runway,” replied the boy with 
stoutly indignant denial. I just was bringing home 
this little girl, and this Boo McHarty man was going 
to give us some supper. How I s’pose he won’t.” 

At this mention of Blue McHarty, Hanana’s father 
whirled about for a look at the proprietor of the camp, 
to whom, thus far, he had paid slight attention. 

Is that your name ? ” he demanded. 

Hot if I know it,” answered the man, though 


228 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


the lad insists on calling me by it. I thought my name 
was Peter Absalom Jones, but perhaps it isn’t. Any- 
how, I never heard of Mr. Blue McHarty before, and 
don’t know the gentleman.” 

I had a dear friend of that name,” explained the 
big man, but I’ve lost track of him, and would give 
a good deal to know where he is now.” 

I want my supper,” broke in Hanana, who could 
not see the use of all this talk while other things of so 
much greater moment were awaiting attention. 

Of course you do, little daughter, and you shall 
have it just as soon as I can get you home.” 

I was just a-going to rustle a bit of grub when 
you happened along,” said Mr. Absalom Jones. And 
if you’d stop for pot-luck, I’d be pleased to have you. 
I haven’t got much; but you’re welcome to what 
there is.” 

“ Thank you,” replied the big man ; “ but supper is 
waiting at home, and also there is so much anxiety there 
on account of these children that I think we’d best be 
getting back as quickly as possible. Won’t you come 
with us? I should be most happy to entertain you 
over night, and longer if you can stop.” 

I’m obliged to you, sir, and would be glad to go, 
if it wasn’t that I’m carrying dispatches and must 
push on as soon as I’ve had a sup and a bite,” was the 
answer. 

In that case,” said the other, of course, I won’t 


A DESERTER OF SEVERAL NAMES 


229 


try to detain yon. When yon come back, thongh, I 
hope yon will stop and give me the chance of express- 
ing some of the gratitnde I feel for yonr kindly care 
of these little rnnaways. Also for firing the shot that 
directed me to them.” 

Good Lord ! ” thonght the man. A shot that 
nearly killed them.” Bnt, alond, he said : It’s noth- 
ing at all, sir, and I’m prond to have been of service.” 

Then the big man sonnded a shrill whistle that 
bronght Don Felix trotting into camp, and in another 
minnte he had ridden away, with the boy perched in 
front of him and Hanana held in his arms. An honr 
’later two children, who had just eaten all the supper 
they could hold, were nestling contentedly in Zephe- 
rine’s ample lap, enfolded by her kindly arms and with 
heads pillowed against her bosom. 

I likes that Boo McHarty man,” murmured the 
curly headed one sleepily ; but I fink I likes mammas 
bester.” 

About that same time the individual thus desig- 
nated was resaddling an already weary horse for a 
night ride that should materially increase the distance 
between himself, a deserter from Fort Berthold, and 
the man whom he had recognized as Mr. Arnold 
Knighton. 

Maybe he didn’t tumble to me,” soliloquized the 
deserter, and again perhaps he did. Anyway, it’s best 
to be on the safe side. ^ Blue McHarty.’ That’s a 


230 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


better name than the one I give him, and I believe I’ll 
take the loan of it.” 

Many months later, nearly four years in fact, a 
St. Louis contractor, who was engaging men for rail- 
road work in Kansas, called out the name Blue 
McHarty,” and in reply two men, both red-headed, 
stepped out from the gang of applicants whom he was 
considering. 

Are there two of you ? ” queried the contractor. 

Well, I can’t take but one, and you’ll have to settle 
betwixt you which it shall be.” 

So the two candidates stepped aside for a settlement. 

Kow, Bedhead,” began one, where’d ye get me 
name ? ” 

Bedhead yourself ! ” retorted the other. What’s 
the matter with its being my name ? ” 

Bekase it was giv to me by the praste in christen- 
ing, and there couldn’t be another like it in all the 
worrld.” 

Yes, there could, for the same name was giv to 
me some years ago by a little lad, many a hundred mile 
from here, at a place called the Dog Dens ; and, being 
in want of a good name, I took it.” 

The Dog Dens, is it ! And who was he ? ” 

“ Son of a man named Knighton.” 

“ Is it Arnold Knighton, a big hairy man, you’re 
maning ? ” 

That’s him.” 


A DESERTER OF SEVERAL NAMES 


231 


Glory be ! The very man I^m weary hunting for. 
Only where could he he getting hold of a son, I don’t 
know. Ye say his name was Arnold Knighton ? ” 

“ So he called himself.” 

And he lives at the Dog Dens ? ” 

He did, and that’s where I saw his children.” 
Childer is it ! And how many did he he having ? ” 
Two, anyway. Maybe more. I don’t know. But 
what is it to you ? ” 

Nothing at all, only I’m due to go and find out. 
Good day till ye. You can have the job; but, wid yer 
kindly permission. I’ll kape the name.” 


CHAPTEK XXYI 


MOLUE KENTON^S BOY 

Again the little old steamboat Aztec crept up the 
great muddy river, and this time her cook was a red- 
headed, undersized Irishman, always addressed by 
Captain Bat Cranshaw, and consequently by the rest 
of the crew as sawed-off.” Long before the upper 
river was reached, the cook, cordially disliking his ship- 
mates, from captain down, was sick of his job, and 
longing for the day when he might throw it up. In 
his anxiety to reach a certain point on the river he had 
accepted the first berth that offered, but since then he 
had been bitterly envious of the swifter packets that 
almost daily overhauled and passed the poky little 
stern-wheeler on which he slaved. Still, as he was wont 
to remark, ‘‘ It was all in a lifetime, and would soon 
be over.” 

Xor was Captain Bat Cranshaw in a particularly 
cheerful humor on this trip. Things were not going 
well with him, and he was not so prosperous as for- 
merly. There were more traders on the river and, for 
him, fewer customers. For some years the Indians of 
the three allied tribes, Aricarees, Mandans, and Gros 
Ventres, who once had been among his best patrons, 
232 


MOLLIE KENTON’S BOY 


233 


had refused to trade with him, though without giving 
any reason for their defection. Also it had become a 
common thing for his boat to he fired at, especially 
when passing the territory occupied by these tribes; 
and, on account of the nature of his business. Captain 
Bat dared not make complaint to the Government au- 
thorities or demand protection. So he thought of giv- 
ing up the river in favor of a gambling establishment 
in St. Louis, and had about decided that this should be 
his last trip. 

There was one narrow place close by the Painted 
Woods where the current was of extra strength, and 
where he had twice been fired upon from the high 
western bank. Although he had passed this place sev- 
eral times since, without molestation, he always dread- 
ed it, and always prepared to slip through it as speedily 
as possible by crowding on an extra head of steam. 
Thus, on the present trip, as the Aztec approached the 
narrows, her furnaces were roaring, dense clouds of 
blackest smoke were belching from her chimneys, and 
the whole fabric quivered with the mighty forces pent 
within her ancient boilers. 

On the edge of the western bluffs a young Aricaree 
warrior, who happened for the moment to be alone, 
lay and watched the shabby little steamboat. He knew 
her well, for once he had been a passenger on board, 
and had deserted her to save the life of a friend who 
ruthlessly had been set ashore to die in the wilderness. 

16 


234 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


I 

Since that time Peninah had not set eyes on the Aztec, 
though he had heard much concerning her misdeeds, 
and had exerted his influence to divert from her the 
trade of the allied tribes. She had become a pariah 
among up-river boats, and the young men who were his 
friends considered it rather amusing to fire at her when- 
ever a chance presented. 

l^ever was there a better opportunity for a shot than 
the present. The boat was well over toward the opposite 
shore, but within easy range and exactly abreast of his 
hiding place. With little reflection, and certainly with- 
out the intent to kill anyone, the young warrior sighted 
along the barrel of his beautiful new Winchester, aiming 
only for the middle of the boat, and pulled the trigger. 

Had a dynamite shell been dropped into the Aztec 
from a high elevation the effect could not have been 
more disastrous. What Peninah’s bullet struck will 
never be known, but that it reached some vital point 
among the overstrained boilers is certain, for with the 
crack of the rifle came an explosion so tremendous that 
it shattered the ill-fated craft to fragments. All the 
upper works were blown off and the hull was so rent 
that it sank even while shrouded beneath the clouds of 
smoke and steam that hung above the spot for several 
minutes. Through this was hurled a vast quantity of 
debris, some of which Peninah could hear crashing 
among the forest trees of the farther shore, but of human 
beings, living or dead, there was none to be seen. 


MOLLIE KENTON’S BOY 


235 


The startled perpetrator of this deed was so 
alarmed at the unexpected result of his shot that, after 
carefully scanning the river^s surface for some minutes 
and discovering no survivors, he beat a hasty retreat 
from the scene of disaster. Some hours later he 
joined the hunt in which he had been a participant, and 
which had swept so many miles back from the river that 
sounds of the explosion had not reached it. Pinding 
that nothing was known and no questions were asked, 
Peninah so kept his secret that to this day what caused 
the destruction of the Aztec , upper river whisky trader, 
remains a mystery. 

Although Peninah was sole witness to the explosion, 
other ears besides his heard it. A big man on a black 
horse and a small boy on an Indian pony were riding 
through the Painted Woods a few miles from the river. 
They were on a hunting trip taken for the express pur- 
pose of teaching the boy the use of a light rifle that had 
been built for him in St. Louis and of which he was a 
little more proud than of anything that ever had hap- 
pened. When the dull roar, heavy as that of a siege 
gun, came booming through the forest, the man in- 
stantly identified it. 

There’s a steamboat blown up 1 ” he exclaimed. 

Some poor souls are in trouble, and maybe we can 
help them. At any rate we’ll go and see. Come on.” 

It was a regular Blue McHarty sort of a noise,” 
laughed the boy light-heartedly. 


236 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


So the two rode to the river and reached its hank 
in time to see a quantity of shattered wreckage go drift- 
ing past. With this evidence that the catastrophe had 
happened some distance upstream, they rode in that 
direction until they came to a place littered with frag- 
ments of woodwork, twisted iron, and innumerable other 
evidences that the explosion had occurred while the un- 
fortunate steamer was close to the bank at this point. 
Amid the debris they found certain human remains in 
the shape of dismembered limbs and fragments of 
burned flesh, from which the boy turned with horror. 
Sick of these sights, and leaving his companion to 
continue the search among them, he strolled toward a 
clump of bushes, intending to rest in their shade. 
Suddenly he uttered a sharp cry and came running 
back. 

Dad, there’s a man in those bushes ! ” he gasped. 

I believe he’s dead, but I think he’s whole. Anyhow, 
he’s in there, and he’s red-headed.” 

In another minute Arnold Knighton was kneeling 
beside the form of a man who lay apparently dead in 
the thicket to which he had been projected by the ex- 
plosion, and whose dense foliage had lessened the 
violence of his descent. Examining the body for signs 
of life, Knighton turned it over, and as he did so he 
uttered a cry of incredulous amazement. 

Blue McHarty ! ” he exclaimed. Blue Mc- 
Harty, after all these years, here and in this plight ! ” 


MOLLIE KENTON’S BOY 


237 


Blue McHarty ! ” repeated the boy, who was look- 
ing on with eager curiosity. Is Blue McHarty the 
name of a real man ? I always thought it was a kind 
of loud noise like thunder. I remember now, though, 
^ Redhead Boo McHarty,’ that’s what I’ve always said, 
and, of course, a noise couldn’t he red-headed.” 

Yes,” continued Knighton, it is my dear old 
friend. Blue McHarty, whom I never expected to see 
again, and the best of it is that he still breathes.” 

Will he live, dad ? ” 

Kent, he’s Irish, and that alone has pulled many a 
man out of scrapes equally had with this one. Besides, 
he is going to have the very best care we can give him, 
and if the combination doesn’t work, then he is a heap 
worse hurt than appears at first sight. How, hoy, we’ve 
got to hustle. The first thing is to get him out of here, 
and the second is to make some sort of a camp in which 
he can he cared for. I wish with all my heart that we 
had the cart so that we might remove him to Castle 
Cave, hut, of course, we can’t get it, for I couldn’t leave 
you alone with him, and there is no way of communi- 
cating with Simon.” 

The moon rose late that night, hut by the first of her 
rays that shimmered the surface of the great river a 
slight figure might have been seen leading a pony away 
from the lean-to of branches beneath which Arnold 
Knighton dozed beside his patient. Hot until sunrise 
was the boy’s absence discovered, and even then for a 


238 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


time the man thought nothing of it, believing the lad 
to he taking a morning swim, as was his custom when- 
ever near a sufficiently large body of water. Then all at 
once, as he busied himself about the fire, his eye was 
attracted to the smooth bark of a nearby tree-trunk. On 
it was traced in large charcoal letters, 

FOE THE KAET FONT WOEY 

KEHT.^^ 

You young rascal! ” ejaculated the man. “ How 
you have placed me in a predicament. Is it my duty to 
go after you or to remain here ? I believe you know the 
way and there’s an even chance that you’ll get through 
all right. Then, I don’t believe Simon will let you come 
back alone. So I suppose I must stay here and await 
developments as patiently as may be, for if I should 
leave poor Blue alone for twenty-four hours, at the 
present crisis, the chances are ten to one that he’d be 
dead of fever, killed by Indians, or devoured by wolves, 
before I got back.” 

With his line of duty thus defined, and heaving a 
sigh induced by his added burden of anxiety, Knighton 
returned to his interrupted tasks prepared to make the 
best of the situation. A little later, while bathing Blue 
McHarty’s bruised body, he came across something de- 
pending by a leather thong from the man’s neck, that 
at first sight he took to be a scapular. It was a thin, 
flat packet of buckskin about an inch and a half square. 


MOLLIE KENTON’S BOY 


239 


with edges tightly sewn. As he brushed it to one side 
the packet was turned over, and to his astonishment he 
saw distinctly traced upon it in faded letters his own 
name, Master Arnold Knighton.” 

Was the packet then intended for him, and had 
Blue been on his trail for the purpose of delivering it 
when overtaken by the accident that so nearly cost his 
life ? As strange things had happened. At any rate he 
believed himself justified in opening it, and proceeded 
to do so, carefully cutting the threads with the point 
of his knife. Finally there dropped out a tightly folded 
note also addressed to him, At Sod Castle, by kindness 
of Blue McHarty,” in a handwriting that appeared 
strangely familiar. Hastily unfolding the closely writ- 
ten sheet and glancing at its signature, the man uttered 
an exclamation of amazement. The note was dated at 
Fort Benton nearly five years earlier, and read as 
follows : 

“Dear Sir: If indeed you are my old friend 
Arnold Knighton, as I am led to believe, this is to in- 
form you that I am alive, happily married to Mollie 
Kenton, and the proud father of two children, a boy 
named ^ Kenton,’ always called ^ Kentyboy,’ as fine a 
little chap as ever walked, together with a girl baby as 
yet unnamed. Also I am fairly prosperous. By that I 
mean that I have succeeded in panning-out a small for- 
tune, some $30,000, in dust from the Bannock placers. 


240 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


ISTow we are going home, Mollie, the children, and I. 
In company with some others I have bnilt a large flat 
boat, having a cabin for Mollie, in which we propose 
to drift down the river to St. Louis. For safety our lit- 
tle fortune is concealed in its timbers. 'No one else 
knows of this, and I am not certain that I should tell 
even you were it not that we shall have reached our jour- 
ney’s end before you read these words. 

When I heard of you so surprisingly, through 
McHarty, I felt that I must write to express my ever- 
lasting gratitude for all that you did for me in the old 
life, and to beg you to give me the chance of renewing 
the friendship I so highly prize, whenever you return to 
civilization. I cannot send you my address at present 
as I have not heard from my people since coming out 
here, but when I have one I will forward it to you in 
care of the American Fur Company at St. Louis, hoping, 
of course, that you will sooner or later turn up in that 
city. If not, you can write to them for it. 

So don’t fail to let me hear from you, and with 
the sincere hope that this will reach you, I remain 
always. 

Affectionately and gratefully, 

“ Your old-time friend, 

Everett Wester.” 

Mollie Fenton’s boy ! ” soliloquized Knighton as, 
with tears dimming his eyes, he finished reading the note 


MOLLIE KENTON’S BOY 


241 


SO surprisingly delivered to him after all these years. 

Mollie Kenton’s hoy ! And it was Mollie Kenton her- 
self whom I buried, she and her hahe, within a mile of ' 
this very spot. O God! the pitifulness of it, and the 
mercy ! ” 


CHAPTEE XXVII 


SIMON GOES TO THE WAES 

Although in the rush of recent events Knighton 
had not given thought to the gold diggers’ bateau that 
he had visited soon after the destruction of its crew some 
five years earlier, now that it was so strangely re- 
called to his mind he began to study the landmarks of 
his immediate vicinity in an attempt to locate it. This 
was a difficult task, for in the years that had elapsed the 
mighty river had altered its hanks, cut for itself new 
channels, and changed its appearance to suit its own 
erratic humor with the freakishness of an irresponsible 
giant. Still the man persevered ; he had the day before 
him, and his patient continued to lie passively uncon- 
scious. The boy Kenton’s fortune, gained by his parents 
through years of toil and by them defended to the death, 
rested somewhere out there awaiting him, and must in 
some way be recovered. Knighton remembered that 
much gold had been taken from the bateau by the 
Mandan hunters who first discovered it ; but he believed 
this must have belonged to Everett Wester’s unknown 
companions in the venture ; for had not the former writ- 
ten that his own earnings were concealed in its timbers ? 

242 


SIMON GOES TO THE WARS 


243 


There, then, the gold still must await recovery if only 
those timbers could be located. So he searched all that 
day, but without result. He did not dare go very far 
from his patient, and frequently returned to look at 
him, but not until sunset was there any change in Blue 
McHarty’s condition. 

Upon returning from his last effort of that day for 
the finding of the bateau, Knighton stopped for a min- 
ute to rekindle the fire outside the lean-to. Then he 
looked in at his patient, and to his joy the latter lay with 
wide-open eyes calmly regarding him. 

“ McHarty, my dear fellow, this is fine ! ” exclaimed 
Knighton, kneeling beside the sufferer and placing a 
cup of water to his lips. The latter drank gratefully, 
and then, as though recalling something long forgotten, 
whispered, “ McHarty ? ” 

“ Yes, that’s your name, and I don’t blame you for 
not knowing yourself after what you have gone through. 
Do you remember me ? I am your old friend, Knighton 
of Sod Castle.” 

Knighton of Sod Castle ? ” repeated the injured 
man, as though receiving this information for the first 
time, but in a whisper scarcely audible. 

^^Yes, and it’s all right. You are getting along 
splendidly. All you have to do now is to sleep, eat, and 
get well as quickly as possible. So don’t try to say 
another word, but drink this and go to sleep.” 

During the succeeding two days the patient, though 


244 


THE OUTCAST WAHRIOR 


conscious, was so feverish and restless that Knighton 
dared not leave him for more than a few minutes at a 
time, and so was unable to resume his search for the 
wrecked bateau. Toward the close of the second day, 
as he sat outside the lean-to anxiously speculating con- 
cerning the movements of Kenton, who now had been 
three days gone, he was startled by the sound of distant 
rifle shots. Also it seemed to him that he heard cries 
of distress, or was it the shriekings of an ungreased cart ? 

A moment’s hesitation, then, without stopping for 
saddle or bridle, he had leaped to Don Felix’s back 
and was off. 

A small war party of Mandans had crossed the river 
that evening and were about to encamp for the night 
in the Painted Woods, preparatory to making a raid 
into Sioux territory. They, too, heard the sounds that 
had so excited Arnold Knighton, but much closer at 
hand and without pause, their eager ponies were tearing 
in that direction. At the border of the woods the 
Mandans came upon a scene of such unequal contest 
that in another minute it must have been ended. 

A little two-wheeled cart, with a desperately 
wounded mule in the shafts, was halted in the edge of 
the timber. Behind it stood a boy, steadily firing a light 
magazine rifle that he rested on one of the wheels, while 
beneath it crouched a woman and a young girl also pos- 
sessed of a rifle that they fired as often as it could be 
reloaded. In the open, just beyond the timber, charged, 


SIMON GOES TO THE WARS 


245 


wheeled, and fired at the cart, half a dozen mounted 
Sioux warriors, while others on foot could he seen 
hurrying with all speed to the front. 

As the Mandans discovered the nature of this one- 
sided combat, they broke from cover and with blood- 
curdling yells dashed at their hereditary enemies. The 
outnumbered Sioux fied before this onset and there was 
a mad scamper of ponies, until suddenly the Mandans 
found themselves confronted, and in turn outnumbered, 
by a strong body of dismounted Sioux warriors, who 
leaped as though by magic from the tufted grasses. 
Before their fatal fire a number of the Mandans 
went down, and the survivors scurried for the shadowy 
shelter of the forest with the triumphant Sioux in hot 
pursuit. 

Again did adverse fortune seem about to overtake 
the stout-hearted but woefully weak defenders of the 
cart; for in their impetuous fiight the Mandans rode 
past it, and except for the slender fire of its two rifles, 
it lay at the mercy of the onsweeping foe. 

Of a sudden there came from the forest a sound that 
caused some of the Sioux to draw rein. It was a war 
cry, long-drawn and terrible as when they had heard it 
on the night of the Great Spirit’s wrath on the bluffs 
behind the Aricaree village, and they knew it for 
the voice of Wicasta. Then from out the dusky shadows 
burst the fierce black stallion, and the double stream of 
fire from two revolvers, that preceded him, carried 


246 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


death and consternation into their ranks. With a few 
ineffective shots from rifle and bow they turned and fled. 
x\fter them thundered Don Eelix and the Mandan 
horses, while the rear was brought up by a shrill-voiced 
hoy who bore a light rifle and frantically urged a 
reluctant pony to greater effort. 

The big man on Don Eelix was first to give over 
the chase, and turning back he allowed the exultant 
Mandans to dash past him. Then he encountered the 
boy. 

Hello, Kent ! ” he shouted. “ Pull up and let us 
hear the news. Whereas Simon? Hot hurt, I hope.” 

“ He isn’t here, dad, but sister and Zeph’ine are, and 
I expect they’ll be awful glad to see you.” 

What do you mean ? ” cried the big man, seizing 
the pony’s bridle rein and compelling him to turn. 

What is Hanana doing here, and who is looking out 
for her? Where is Simon? ” 

Simon’s gone to the war, dad, and Zeph’ine’s tak- 
ing care of sister. I tell you she’s a good one, too, and 
can handle a rifle almost as well as I can.” 

Is either of them hurt ? ” 

Hot that I know of, dad ; but there’s the cart now 
and you can see for yourself.” 

How dared you leave them, sir ? ” 

Just had to, dad, when I saw those Santee run- 
ning; they’d been chasing us, you know.” 

This last remark was unheeded, for the man had 


SIMON GOES TO THE WARS 


247 


flung himself to the ground and was straining to his 
heart the little daughter that he would not for worlds 
have exposed to this danger. 

“ O papa ! I never was so glad to see anybody, and 
poor Bahette ! I’m afraid she’ll never sing any more. 
And, papa, you just ought to have seen Zeph’ine shoot. 
She’s as good as a soldier.” 

Better than some, I’ve no doubt,” replied the man. 

But what does this mean ? Why are you here ? 
Where is Simon ? ” 

That pig of a Simon is gone to the war, monsieur. 
Oui, thinking you instantly would he hack, he is gone, 
leaving us for the protecting of ourselves.” 

What do you mean, Zeph’ine ? What war ? ” 

That war au demi-sang par Fort Garry. The war 
of General Biel. Some mans tell him of it and he is 
so flerce for fight that not anybody, not me myself, can 
stop him. So I tell him go ; and if he nevaire retournez 
I care not at all. Then come Hit monsieur and say that 
you mus have Bahette avec charretie right away queek. 
Mais we may not be leave, so we come aussi, and but for 
les sauvages we will have un hon voyage, C'est done, 
monsieur, nous voild/' 

Yes, I see you are here,” replied Knighton 
dubiously, and I am thankful enough to find you alive 
and unhurt, but what I am to do with you Heaven only 
knows. You say Bahette is hurt? ” 

Wiped out, dad,” replied the boy, who had been 


248 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


bending over tbe now prostrate mule. Poor ‘ welcome 
home ’ will never sing another song.’^ 

Then we must hitch your pony to the cart, for I 
wouldn’t dare trust Don Felix. We’ve got to hustle, too, 
and he off before it grows pitch dark, or we’ll never get 
through the woods. I expect we’ll have to make torches 
as it is.” 

This prediction proved correct, they did have to 
make torches, and night was well advanced before they 
reached the little camp by the riverside in which poor 
McHarty had almost ceased to hope that anybody ever 
would come to give him another drink of water. The 
newcomers had brought plenty of provisions from Cas- 
tle Cave, and Zepherine soon had ready a bountiful sup- 
per, of which even Blue was allowed to eat a small 
portion. After supper Mr. Knighton sat down with the 
children and questioned them. 

Yes, papa,” said Hanana, it was just as Zeph’ine 
told you. Simon was out hunting and met some men 
he knew hurrying to what they call the Half-Breed war 
up at Fort Garry, and he came tearing home so excited 
he scarcely could talk. He said he must go at once, 
and that it was perfectly safe to leave us because you 
surely would be home that night. Zeph’ine was very 
angry and told him that if he went he might stay, for 
she wouldn’t ever have anything more to do with him. 
But he didn’t mind a word she said. He only kept 
repeating that he was a brave man and must fight for 


SIMON GOES TO THE WARS 249 

his country. Then he went away and it wasn’t more 
than an hour afterward before brother came.” 

“ Lucky thing I did,” put in the hoy, for they 
both were pretty well scared, I can tell you.” 

Nothing of the kind ! ” was the indignant re- 
joinder. We weren’t half so scared as you were this 
afternoon when you found those Santee were after us.” 

“ Only ’cause I was afraid they’d catch us before we 
could reach the timber. I knew we could stand ’em olf 
there, all right.” 

Both of you had good reason to be scared,” said 
Hanana’s father, and both of you have behaved splen- 
didly” 

Zeph’ine, too, papa ! You just ought to have seen 
her fire that rifle.” 

Zeph’ine, too. And I’ve no doubt she did a thou- 
sand times better than Simon would have done in her 
place. It is unlucky for the ^ Breeds ’ that they 
haven’t her in their army instead of him.” 

What did you think when you found me gone, 
dad ? ” asked Kenton, who thought Zeph’ine had been 
praised quite enough. 

I thought, my hoy,” replied Mr. Knighton gravely, 
that you had done a very wrong thing, and I think so 
still. At the same time, since all of you are safely here, 
I am thankful that affairs so shaped themselves. While 
you were away I received information that may keep 
me in this very place for several weeks, and I wondered 
17 


250 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


how I was going to maintain two establishments so far 
apart during that time. ISTow you are here, McHarty is 
doing well, and we all can stay here together while 
attending to the business in hand.’^ 

What is it, dad ? ” 

Please, papa, tell us.” 

I^ot to-night ; you already have had excitement 
enough for one day, and so have I.” 


CHAPTEE XXVIII 


KENTON western’s FORTUNE 

On the following morning, leaving Blue McHarty 
to the kindly care of Zepherine, who, never before hav- 
ing seen such a cheveux rousse, as she termed his red 
head, was greatly interested in him, Arnold Knighton 
shouldered his rifle and invited the children to go with 
him for a walk. 

All right, dad,” answered Kenton promptly, 
only let me get my gun.” 

I wish I had a gun, too, papa,” said Hanana. 
Don’t you think I might carry Zeph’ine’s rifle ? I 
have flred it off once.” 

Well, hardly, little daughter ; I am afraid it’s a 
size too large- for you. But after yesterday you cer- 
tainly deserve whatever you most wish for. So if you 
really want a rifle more than anything else, I will order 
one for you from St. Louis.” 

She can have mine, dad, if you’ll order a big one 
for me in place of it,” cried Kenton, who had returned 
in time to hear this promise. 

That might he a good plan,” replied Mr. Knigh- 
ton. You are becoming a warrior so rapidly that I 
251 


252 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


shouldn’t be surprised if you were big enough for a full- 
sized gun by the time it gets here.” 

But you must let me have yours right off now,” 
bargained Hanana. 

Huh ! ” cried Kenton, what would I do without 
one till mine came ? ” 

Oh ! I’d lend it to you whenever you needed a rifle 
very importantly.” 

Every time I asked for it ? ” 

Ye-es,” replied the girl hesitatingly. That is, 
if I wasn’t using it myself.” 

All right. It’s a trade,” agreed Kenton, handing 
over the cherished weapon. Only you must be awfully 
careful not to shoot yourself. And — don’t you think 
perhaps you’d better let me carry it now ? ” 

Ko ! ” replied the young Diana decidedly. In a 
dangerous place like this I prefer to carry it myself.” 

Well, then don’t point it at me, ’cause it’s loaded 
and might go off. If you don’t carry it better than that. 
I’ll take it back.” 

You can’t now because it’s mine, isn’t it, papa? ” 

By all the laws of trade I believe it is,” replied 
Mr. Knighton. It was a bargain made in the presence 
of witnesses.” 

^Tite Angel Whatever are you doing dvec cet 
fusil dangereux ? cried Zepherine, appearing on the 
scene at that moment. 

I’m not a little angel any more, and I wish you 


KENTON WESTER’S FORTUNE 


253 


wouldn’t call me one/’ replied Hanana with dignity. 

I am a big girl now with a rifle all of my own. And it 
isn’t a dangerous fusil either, except to my enemies.” 

PardieuI Hear the child talk ! ” exclaimed Zeph- 
erine, throwing up her hands. One would think she 
was La Fille d' Orleans/' 

As the little party moved off, both the man and the 
girl shouldering rifles, melancholy Kenton almost re- 
gretted his hastily made bargain. He was empty-handed* 
and gazed wistfully first* at one, then at the other. 
Finally Mr. Knighton took pity on the lad and said: 

Here, Kent, I wish you would carry my gun for 
a while, as I find it rather heavy this morning.” 

Gladly did the boy assume the burden, together with 
its responsibility, and thus was happiness once more 
restored. A little later Mr. Knighton led his young 
companions to a prostrate log that lay near a small pile 
of bowlders. Seating himself on it, with a child on 
either side, and an arm around each, he said : 

‘‘ I have brought you here to tell you something that 
I myself have but just learned. That pile of stones 
marks the grave of Kenton’s own mother and baby 
sister.” 

My own mother ! ” repeated the startled boy. 

How do you know, dad ? ” 

Because I buried her there, before ever I saw you 
or even knew of your existence. Kow it has come to 
my knowledge that you, together with your father. 


254 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


mother, baby sister, and some other persons whose names 
are unknown, came down the river in a boat about five 
years ago, and all except you were killed by Indians near 
this point. Some weeks afterward I found that boat and 
went on board. It was totally wrecked and contained 
no bodies. A little later I discovered here the bones of 
a white woman together with those of a babe and gave 
them burial, but without knowing, at that time, whose 
they were.” 

How did you find out, dad ? ” asked the boy in an 
awed tone. 

Blue McHarty had on his person a note addressed 
to me, and written by your father, that gave me the 
information.” 

Did you know my own father ? ” 

Yes, he was my dear friend, Everett Wester.” 

Did you know my own mother, too? ” 

Indeed I did, son. She was another dear friend, 
and her name was Mollie Kenton.” 

But where was I when the others were killed ? ” 
I found you near Painted Woods Lake, the day 
after I buried your mother.” 

How did you know who I was ? ” 

I didn’t then, but your father’s letter opened my 
eyes. He wrote that he was about to embark on a fiat 
boat for St. Louis with his wife and baby and little five- 
year-old-son named Kenton but called ^ Kentyboy,’ and 
when I found you, you said that was your name. Also 


KENTON WESTER’S FORTUNE 


255 


you knew Blue McHarty, who knew your father and 
who has just brought me his letter.” 

Then Blue McHarty can tell me all about them ? ” 

I hope so when he gets stronger, hut at present 
he is too weak to talk and doesn’t seem to remember 
things.” 

So you are not my father, and now I haven’t any,” 
said the boy mournfully, finding it hard to become rec- 
onciled to the new order of things just revealed. 

Ho, my dear boy, I am not your own father, but 
with God’s help I am trying to take his place and be to 
you as nearly as may be what he would have been.” 

You are doing it splendidly, too! ” cried the lad 
with his eyes full of tears, jumping up and throwing 
his arms around the man’s neck. And I love you, and 
love you, and love you, and shall always call you my own 
dear dad.” 

But you are my truly own papa ? ” exclaimed a 
jealously doubtful voice from the other side. 

Indeed I am, little daughter,” responded the man, 
snatching up Hanana and holding her close. 

When this exhibition of feeling had somewhat sub- 
sided and the children had resumed their seats, Mr. 
Knighton continued : 

There is one more thing to tell you and that is why 
we must remain here for a time. Kenton’s father wrote 
that he had concealed some property in the boat that was 
to take him down the river, and I have reason to believe 


256 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


that it still is there. So I am going to try and find the 
wreck with the hope of discovering something that will 
be of value to his son a few years from now.” 

Wagh ! ” exclaimed a guttural voice behind them 
at this moment, and all three sprang to their feet, both 
the children grasping rifles. A tall Mandan warrior 
stood within a few paces of them smiling gravely at this 
show of armed force and holding out a hand to Mr. 
Knighton. 

Me Chief Spotted Bull,” he said, you big medi- 
cine man live Dog Den. Yestiddy you fight Sioux 
good. Mandan fight Sioux. Kill um plenty, get plenty 
scalp. Kow some of my young man heap sick. You 
come, fix um, eh ? ” 

Spotted Bull,” replied the white man, recognizing 
his visitor. Then you are one of those who found the 
boat out there five years ago, and carried much black 
medicine to Girard the trader at Berthold ? ” 

Yep, me find um.” 

Could you find that boat again ? ” 

Mebbe so.” 

Well, I’ll tell you wKat I’ll do. I need some of 
that same black medicine myself to make me strong. 
You know it is very good medicine for white man but 
very bad for Indians ? ” 

Yep, Girard, him say so.” 

Then, if you will help me find that boat I will do 
my best to fix up your young men who are sick.” 


KENTON WESTER’S FORTUNE 


257 


All right, me do, but you fix um young man first.’’ 

I’ll go with you this very minute. How far is 
your camp ? ” 

Littly way.” 

Thus it happened that a few minutes later Arnold 
Knighton, who always carried with him a pocket case of 
instruments, was exercising his professional skill in be- 
half of a number of badly wounded Mandan warriors 
whose condition had compelled their comrades to make 
in that place a camp that seemed likely to he occupied 
for some time. While he sewed up knife cuts, extracted 
bullets and arrowheads, or reset fractured bones, the 
children helped whenever they could be of service, and 
the uninjured warriors looked on admiringly. 

After all had been attended to and the visitors had 
eaten a hearty meal with their Indian friends, the for- 
mer started toward the river accompanied only by 
Spotted Bull. Leading them directly to a place where a 
dry bar extended into the water for some distance, and 
pointing with an expressive gesture to a certain spot he 
said: 

There big boat.” 

So changed were all the surroundings that Arnold 
Knighton could not believe he had located the wreck, 
until going out and probing in the sand with a stout 
stick he struck wood about a foot beneath the surface, 
at the very place indicated. Digging enough of the sand 
away to expose the ends of a couple of timbers and thus 


258 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


assure themselves that they had indeed found the old 
bateau, the gold diggers gave over work for that time and 
returned to their respective camps. 

On the following day, after visiting his many 
patients, Arnold Knighton, accompanied by a dozen 
lusty warriors whom he had enlisted by the promise of 
presents, set to work in earnest, and soon had a consider- 
able portion of the wreck exposed to daylight. One side 
of it had broken off and drifted away, hut the woodwork 
of the part that remained had been perfectly preserved 
under its covering of sand and water. Only the nails 
fastening it together had rusted so that it could he 
knocked to pieces without any great difficulty. 

By the end of a week every remaining timber of the 
wreck had been removed and conveyed to Knighton’s 
camp where they were stacked up beside the lean-to. 
The Indians could not imagine what he wanted with 
these old, water-soaked fragments, and fancied that he 
must he greatly disappointed at the very small quantity 
of black medicine ” scraped up from the bottom of the 
wreck, hut then the white man’s ways were very strange 
and past finding out. 

Finally, with their wounded sufficiently recovered to 
he moved and hearing a written order on the post trader 
at Berthold for a liberal present in goods, the Mandans 
took their departure. Kot until then did Arnold 
Knighton begin operations on his stack of timbers, but 
now he attacked them in earnest, and by the end of 


KENTON WESTER’S FORTUNE 


259 


anotlier week he had extracted from them enough gold 
dust to fill ten stout buckskin sacks, that he estimated 
to hold twenty-five pounds weight each. Thus, by rough 
figuring, he had recovered from the wreck, not only 
Everett Wester’s little fortune of $30,000, which now 
must he held for Kenton, but some $20,000 in addition. 

From the Mandans Knighton had procured three- 
ponies as a fee for professional services, and with these, 
in addition to the cart, there was no difficulty in trans- 
porting the entire party including Blue McHarty, now 
far on the road to recovery, and their treasure-trove hack 
to the Dog Dens and the comforts of Castle Cave. As' 
they approached the latter place, Kenton, who had im- 
petuously ridden a little ahead, came dashing hack with 
the news that the Le Fevre cabin had been burned to the 
ground. And it was those rascal Sioux who did it, 
too,” he declared, before they took up our trail and 
followed us to the Painted Woods.” 

Then am I more than ever thankful, son, that you 
took matters into your own hands last month, and so 
reunited a family that otherwise might have been scat- 
tered beyond recall,” said Mr. Knighton. Kow, even 
Zeph’ine will have to live in Castle Cave with the rest 
of us, at least until Simon comes home from the wars.” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


HAITAITA riEES THE MINE 

The passing of another five-year period finds onr 
friends still occupying their wilderness home among the 
Dog Dens, but under greatly changed conditions, though 
the changes have come so gradually as hardly to be 
noticed. Arnold Knighton, still known to the Indians 
as “ Wicasta, the white medicine man,” has made a 
truce with the Sioux and become their firm friend ; also 
they bring their wounded and their sick to him for 
treatment. For nearly two years after the affair of the 
Painted Woods they were his enemies and made several 
attempts to wipe him out.” The last of these efforts 
was a regular siege of Castle Cave, where they had 
discovered the Fox Gate by following Knighton and 
seeing him enter by it. Then they lay in wait for his 
reappearance, not knowing that there was any other 
exit, and unconscious that they could be seen by the 
inmates of the castle from several well hidden, crevice- 
like windows. 

From one of these watched Kenton Wester, a well- 
developed lad, able to fire with precision the full-sized 
rifle that had come to him in exchange for the light one 
now owned by Hanana. 


260 


HANANA FIRES THE MINE 


261 


Dad, there are two of them standing close to- 
gether and exactly in line ! ” he exclaimed. I know 
I could get them both’ at a shot. Do let me try.” 

'Noy Kent,” answered Mr. Knighton, who stood 
at a table in the rocky chamber behind the boy, busily 
engaged with a small electric battery. We are not 
yet ready to give them their lesson. Besides, I want 
them to concentrate all their attention on the Fox Gate 
without suspecting any other openings ; also I desire to 
avoid bloodshed so far as may be. I doubt if their 
superstitious fear of the place will permit them to try 
and force an entrance, and I hope that, weary of wait- 
ing for us to appear, they will go away without com- 
pelling us to fight.” 

If they do, dad, they^ll come back again. They’ll 
never leave us in peace while they think they are 
stronger than we are.” 

I suppose you are right, son, and that we shall 
have to teach them a lesson sooner or later.” 

Of course, by means of the Hocking Bock, of which 
the Indians were ignorant, the little garrison of the cave 
could go and come as it pleased, and it would have been 
easy for them to escape, provided they were willing to 
give up their home, but they were not, nor did they in- 
tend to be driven from it. The Indians had made a 
camp where Mr. Knighton expected they would, on the 
site of the Le Fevre cabin which they had destroyed at 
the time of Simon’s departure for the wars, and from 


262 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


here they could command an unobstructed view of the 
Fox Gate entrance. 

At night they stationed guards close beside it, and 
they were certain that no one had issued from it since 
they had driven a white man within its gloomy protec- 
tion. So a day and a night passed in tedious waiting 
for something to happen. On the second night some- 
thing did happen; for as the Indians were gathered in 
their camp, discussing the situation, there came from 
out of the darkness behind them a loud voice speaking 
in their own tongue : 

Let the men of the Dakotah depart from this 
place,” it cried, and come to it no more, lest the 
anger of Wicasta manifest itself in a thunderbolt that 
may do them harm ! ” 

The Dakotah do not fear Wicasta, for they know 
him to he but a man like themselves,” shouted back a 
warrior, leaping to his feet and turning a defiant face 
in the direction of the voice. 

To this came no answer, nor was the silence of the 
night again broken. With earliest dawn a trail of 
moccasined feet was found and followed to the very edge 
of a canyon, deep, dark, and mysterious, beyond which 
rose a blank wall of solid rock. There the trail abruptly 
ended, nor could any other be found. 

The bewildered trailers had hardly disappeared on 
their way back, to make report, when the rock wall at 
which they had gazed moved slowly forward toward the 


HANANA FIRES THE MINE 


263 


place where they had stood^ and in another minute 
three horsemen were following after them. 

In the meantime the Sioux^ in spite of their bold 
defiance, had been rendered very uneasy by hearing be- 
hind them the voice that announced Wicasta’s escape 
from the cave, nor could they imagine how he had 
accomplished it. How that he was out, however, some 
of the holder spirits among them determined to make 
an effort for the discovery of his secret. So as soon as 
the sun was high enough to throw a gleam of light into 
the Fox Gate, haK a dozen of the youngest and most 
reckless made a cautious entry into the dread portal. 
They met with no opposition, nor could they discern 
cause for alarm ; and with each step they advanced more 
boldly. 

Suddenly the foremost stumbled over a tightly 
strung wire, raised but a few inches from the fioor, 
and instantly, with a thunderous roar, the place was 
swept with a hail of bullets. As the tremendous report 
of the spring gun thus discharged within the Fox Gate 
reverberated through the upper chambers of the great 
cavern, a young girl, gazing nervously from one of the 
crevice windows with a finger resting lightly on an 
electric key, was so startled that she inadvertently 
pressed it. In instant response there came another roar 
vastly greater than the first, and the site of the besieger^s 
camp on the hillside was torn as though by a volcanic 
eruption. 


264 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


The promised thunderbolt of Wicasta had fallen, 
and by it the warriors of the Dakotah were hurled in 
every direction, wounded, stunned, or panic-stricken. 
Ere they could recover, they were charged by a body 
of horsemen led by the gigantic figure clad in wolf 
skins that they had learned to know and dread, but 
which they thought they had this time safely trapped. 
In another moment the siege of Castle Cave was raised, 
and the besiegers, leaving everything behind them, were 
in headlong fiight that only was ended some hours later 
by their physical inability to continue it. 

One strangely unexpected and regretable effect of 
exploding that mine was that thereafter the Rocking 
Rock remained an immovable fixture, so that to reach 
it the dwellers in Castle Cave were compelled to throw 
a light drawbridge across the canyon. 

This was the last attack ever made by the Sioux 
upon the white medicine man. Such of them as were 
left behind, both at Fox Gate and at their camp too 
badly wounded for flight, were tenderly and skillfully 
cared for by their late foes. Upon recovery they were 
returned to their own people, bearing presents, together 
with a proposition for a permanent peace between the 
Dakotah and the dwellers in Castle Cave. This pro- 
posal resulted in a meeting between the white medicine 
man and several of the Sioux chiefs at which it was 
agreed that thereafter the Indians should in no way 
molest the former, his people, or his property; while 


HANANA FIRES THE MINE 


265 


he, on his part, promised medical attendance to any 
member of the tribe who should be brought to him in 
need of it. 

To carry out his part of the bargain Knighton 
erected on the site of the Le Fevre cabin another log 
structure to he used as a hospital and dispensary. From 
such patients as were able to pay him he exacted fees 
in proportion to their means, and thus he soon began 
to accumulate wealth in the shape of horses, cattle, and 
furs. Thus did the once outcast warrior become a 
power for good in the land and a useful citizen of the 
wilderness. 

In all this busy life he did not for one moment 
neglect his children nor forget the obligations he had 
assumed toward them. Early and late he taught them 
of his own knowledge. From St. Louis he procured 
books for them, and their interest in the world’s affairs 
was awakened by the best periodical literature. That 
they might become familiar with the manners and cus- 
toms of civilization he ordered furniture and house fur- 
nishings for Castle Cave such as befitted the home of a 
gentleman; also he procured for them clothing suitable 
for wear in cities, though it must be admitted that 
neither Kenton nor Hanana took kindly to this nor 
wore it except on occasions and by express command. 

These two were the light and joy of Arnold 
Knighton’s life, and well they might be, for never was 

a father blessed with children more lovable and thor- 
18 


266 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


oughly satisfactory. They were perfectly healthy, very 
happy, and bubbling over with the joyousness of youth. 
Everything that they undertook they did with a will 
stimulated by a common rivalry. Thus they studied, 
worked, played, rode, hunted, and shot together; they 
had differences, of course, hut in the making of them 
up they loved each other all the more. They had many 
young Indian friends who were allowed to visit them 
and whom they visited in turn, though no Indian ever 
was permitted to enter Castle Cave or discover its secrets. 

Thus, when the young visitors came, they went into 
camp or were entertained by the McHartys at the hos- 
pital, for our old friend Blue McHarty was now the 
head of a family. His adored wife was no other than 
Zepherine, one time widow of that Simon who went so 
gayly off to the wars only to be killed in a pothouse 
quarrel before ever reaching the real field of battle. 
Zepherine had borne her loss with a philosophical resig- 
nation which she expressed by saying : Om, monsieur, 
zat Simon is un bon Jiomme, a vair good man ; but much 
more of the man good is he when he is dead than if he 
still lives. West-ce'pasf 

From the first, Zepherine had admired Blue Mc- 
Harty’s red head ; and from their earliest acquaintance 
he had been charmed by her French ways. Thus when 
the time came they were married; and never has the 
world seen a more devoted couple. Also they had be- 
come fixtures at Castle Cave, where so much depended 


HANANA FIRES THE MINE 


267 


upon tliem tliat it was impossible to imagine its affairs 
going on without them. 

Blue McHarty had fully recovered from being blown 
up on the Missouri, except for a most curious lapse of 
memory. Of his life before he awoke to consciousness in 
Arnold Knighton’s lean-to, he could remember nothing 
except what was told him. He did not know his own 
name until he was told that it was Blue McHarty ; then 
he remembered perfectly. He could not tell where he 
was born nor where he came from until his friend sug- 
gested Dublin, when Blue said : Av coorse.” Even 

then he could give no description of his native city 
except such as was furnished him by others. Thus he 
was unable to tell anything concerning the Westers that 
Knighton did not already know and suggest, and of his 
long wanderings from Fort Benton via Sod Castle to the 
place where he was blown into temporary oblivion he 
could tell nothing, because there was no one to prompt 
him. He did not even laugh with his old-time heartiness 
until Arnold Knighton told him of his own christening 
and of the duty thus imposed upon him to combat the 
depressing influence of his name at every opportunity 
during the remainder of his life. 

Until it was suggested to him that he had come up 
the river by steamer, he had no idea of how he had 
traveled, but then he said: I come by steamer, av 
coorse.” When asked what was the name of the 
steamer, he could only shake his head and answer: 


268 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Divil a bit do I know. I’m thinking she had no 
name.” Hor did he know what had happened to her. 
He remembered perfectly everything from his first 
moment of awakening, and thus he was a man of the 
present, almost without a past. This situation was com- 
pletely satisfactory to Mrs. McHarty, since he could say 
with perfect truth that he could not remember having 
ever laid eyes upon anny gurrl ” before seeing her. 

Thus the family of Castle Cave in the Dog Dens 
was an uncommonly happy one and well content with 
their present mode of life, but at the same time dwelling 
in eager anticipation of changing it whenever its two 
youngest members should reach a certain point in their 
studies. Then were they to set forth on their travels 
into the great world, perhaps to enter school or college 
in that part of it known as the East,” the land of 
their most romantic daydreams and of their heart’s 
desire. 

Arnold Knighton looked forward to revisiting the 
friends and scenes of his youth whenever the day of 
freedom should arrive, while the McHartys anticipated 
being left in blissful and unsupervised control of every- 
thing that made up their own little world. So all 
waited and wondered and planned, each for himself; 
and when the time came, everything happened so unex- 
pectedly that all their plans had to be revised and a 
whole new set hurriedly prepared. 


CHAPTEE XXX 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 

Upon the close of the Civil War the American Gov- 
ernment found time to devote attention to the develop- 
ment of its mighty western empire lying between the 
Mississippi and the Pacific. Work on the single trans- 
continental railway already begun, was pushed, and lines 
for other similar roads were surveyed. Xew trails were 
opened in every direction, and many new forts were 
established for the protection of surveyors, prospectors, 
miners, and settlers. Among these new army posts were 
two that exercised a direct infiuence upon the fortunes 
of our friends. One of them was Fort Totten, erected 
on the south shore of Minnewakon, or DeviPs Lake, and 
the other was Fort Stevenson, located one hundred and 
twenty miles distant, at the great bend of the Missouri. 
Between these points a trail was opened by the yearly 
passage to and fro of hay contractors’ outfits, an occa- 
sional military reconnoissance, and the riders of a semi- 
monthly mail service. This trail crossed the south, end 
of the Dog Dens and, at its nearest point, was about five 
miles distant from Castle Cave, the existence of which 
was not known to one in a hundred of the travelers 
who passed that way. 


269 


270 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Now, while the Sioux had made a treaty of friend- 
ship with Wicasta, the white medicine man, they were 
more than ever hitter against the pale faces in general 
for having taken possession of their choicest camping 
grounds on the borders of their beloved Minnewakon, 
and having forever driven them out by the establishment 
there of a military post. While they did not yet feel 
strong enough to make another definite resistance 
against the encroaching whites, they haunted the Fort 
Totten trail to cut off every unfortunate who fell in 
their way, and especially the mail riders, until it be- 
came known as the most dangerous mail route in the 
Northwest. Finally the authorities ceased sending out 
soldiers with the mail, and employed only the most 
skillful plainsmen, generally half-breeds, in the service. 
Even these often were held up, sometimes killed, and, 
when caught, invariably robbed of their mail sacks, 
whose contents were destroyed. The situation at length 
became so desperate that for a time the route was aban- 
doned. That it was resumed was owing to the discovery, 
by the commandant at Fort Stevenson, of one person who 
could traverse the deadly trail with impunity. This was 
a stalwart young fellow known as Kent ” Wester, 
who frequently visited the post to obtain goods brought 
up the river from St. Louis and consigned to a certain 
Arnold Knighton. Sometimes young Wester brought 
in valuable pack loads of furs for shipment ; but always 
he came and went without trouble. 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 


271 


One day it happened that the commandant, having 
important dispatches that must be got through to Eort 
Totten with all speed, offered this lad a handsome re- 
ward if he would undertake their delivery, and return 
with an answer. The offer was promptly accepted, and 
four days later the young fellow reappeared at Steven- 
son with his mission safely accomplished. Prom that 
time on for nearly a year Kent ” Wester was regularly 
employed as a dispatch rider over the Port Totten trail, 
and he never failed to get through. The one thing that 
he steadfastly refused to do was to act as escort or guide 
to any other person, and thus the secret of his success 
in avoiding capture or hold-up was never learned. 

Of course, Kenton always made a point of stopping 
at Castle Cave, if only for a few minutes, both going and 
coming, and between trips, which were made at stated 
intervals, he spent his time at home busily engaged with 
the studies that were eventually to fit him for a place 
in the great outside world. 

At length it happened that on a gray day in late 
Kovember the young trail rider was awaiting at Steven- 
son the arrival of dispatches from Port Buford that he 
was to carry on over the lonely eastward route. Up to 
that time the season had been open, and the autumn 
unusually mild; but on this day, in the post trader^s 
store where Kenton waited, it was predicted by the 
plainsmen there gathered that a decided change was 
about to take place. 


272 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


Winter’s on us,” said one, and it’s coming in a 
hurry, too.” 

You bet ! and butt-end foremost,” agreed another, 
^^or I don’t know sign. What do you say, young 
feller ? ” 

I believe we are in for it,” replied Kenton, and 
I only hope it will hold off until I get a good start.” 

You wouldn’t start ef ye knowed a blizzard was 
coming, would ye ? ” asked one. 

“ Yes, I think I would.” 

‘‘ Then ye’d be a heap bigger fool than I’ve took ye 
for.” 

Just here an orderly appeared with a request that 
dispatch-rider Wester would step over to the command- 
ant’s office. 

A steamboat, the last of the season, had come in from 
up river a short time before, bringing among other pas- 
sengers the general in command of that department, who 
was returning from a tour of inspection. The boat had 
been tediously delayed by unusually low water, and even 
worse conditions were reported from below. Chafing 
under the loss of time already suffered, and anxious to 
push on with all speed, the general had decided to pro- 
ceed overland from this point by way of the Eort Totten 
trail. Already a saddled horse, an escort of a dozen 
cavalrymen, and a four-mule ambulance were drawn up 
before the office awaiting his pleasure, and all he needed 
was a guide. 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 


273 


This state of affairs was explained to the young 
trail rider by the post commandant, while the general 
sat by and listened. 

And now/’ broke in the latter impatiently, as 
you are said to be the best trail rider in this section of 
country, I want you to act as my guide to Fort Totten. 
We start in five minutes.” 

“ I am very sorry, sir, but I can’t do it,” answered 
Kenton respectfully. 

“ What do you mean ? You are a Government em- 
ployee, aren’t you ? ” 

^^Yes, sir, but ” 

Then you are under my orders, and I order you to 
guide me to Fort Totten.” 

As I said, sir, I am very sorry, but I can’t do it.” 

By heavens ! I am not accustomed to being defied 
in this manner,” cried the general, his face as red as fire. 

Major Wainwright, place this fellow under arrest, and 
lock him up until he can be court-martialed.” 

“ I beg your pardon, general,” said the commandant, 
but perhaps you don’t understand that this young 
man is not enlisted, nor even under a contract. He 
merely is employed to carry dispatches and is paid by 
the trip.” 

Then what did you bring him here for ? Dis- 
charge him at once, and never employ him again. I 
don’t need him, anyhow. I guess I’m enough of a 
plainsman to find my own way along a clearly defined 


274 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


trail, without the aid of any impudent young whipper- 
snapper of a boy. Discharge him at once, sir.” 

“ Mr. Wester, you are discharged and will not again 
be, employed in Government service,” said the com- 
mandant gravely. 

Very good, sir,” replied Kenton, saluting and 
leaving the office. 

His mare, Kelicia, a direct descendant of Don Felix, 
was saddled ready for him, and in another minute, with- 
out a word to anyone, he was riding furiously from the 
post. He was bitterly angry against that general and 
hoped he would come to grief. 

I wouldn’t lift a hand to save the purple-faced old 
fool,” he declared to himself, and I only hope some of 
Crow Toe’s boys’ll get after him. If they don’t, the 
blizzard will, and I expect he’ll have had enough of trail 
riding before he gets through. Major Wainwright 
ought to have told him that I never act as guide to any- 
body over this trail. I wouldn’t for the President him- 
self, unless the Sioux would let me off from my promise, 
for that one trip. So I’m discharged, am I? Well, 
thank goodness! I don’t care. I was only riding for 
the fun and excitement of the thing, anyhow.” 

As the young rider gained the top of the breaks,” 
as the bluffs of the upper Missouri are called, he looked 
back at a cloud of dust that was following fast behind 
him. Coming, are you, old purple face ? ” he cried. 

Well, take your last look at your guide, for you won’t 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 275 

see him again. hTow, Felicia girl, show ’em your heels. 
Here we go! Whoopee! for home.” 

With this the yelling lad disappeared over the crest 
of the bluffs, and started at racing speed across the 
wind-swept plain. For it was wind-swept by this time, 
and the gale, ever gaining strength, was laden with 
minute particles of icy snow that stung like needles 
wherever they touched the hare skin. 

Hever had the plucky little mare shown such speed 
nor such endurance, and never had they been more 
needed. Winter had indeed descended upon that bleak 
northland butt-end foremost ” and with the worst 
storm of its entire assortment. Fortunately our lad 
rode down the wind, hut even with this advantage, at 
the end of three hours he was on foot breaking a way 
through drifts already up to his waist, and leading a 
trembling animal who seemed about to drop from utter 
exhaustion with each step. But they already were 
among the Hog Hen buttes, and, with a final strenuous 
effort, they gained the safety and sheltering warmth of 
home. 

All that night the blizzard raged with unabated 
fury, but, snugly beyond reach of its utmost efforts, 
Kent ” Wester thawed out, and ate and drank and 
told his story. Also he reviled that purple-faced gen- 
eral and declared that unless the latter had turned 
back without even gaining the crest of the Missouri 
bluffs, he now was getting what he deserved. 


276 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


The next morning, with the storm still raging, our 
lad was amazed to see Mr. Knighton getting into furs 
as though preparing to go outside. 

What are you going to do, dad ? he asked 
curiously. 

“ Going to look for your general,” was the quiet 
reply. A man of his character isn’t apt to turn back 
when he has set out to accomplish something, and I am 
afraid that he and his escort may be perishing some- 
where in this vicinity.” 

Right you are, dad ! and I’ll go with you,” cried 
the boy, springing to his feet. 

I thought you wouldn’t lift a hand to save him.” 

I wouldn’t last night, but I feel different about 
it to-day. Poor old chap! I suppose he didn’t know 
any better.” 

It was a terrible day, and several times the exhausted 
searchers returned to Castle Cave for rest and refresh- 
ment. But always they started out again, with fresh 
horses, firing rifles and yelling as they struggled for- 
ward, and finally, with the short span of daylight 
merging into arctic night, their efforts were rewarded. 
They found the general and his men hopelessly huddled 
in the lee of a butte, without fire, food, or shelter, the 
ambulance having long since been abandoned, and with- 
^out their horses, which, left to themselves, had drifted 
away before the blizzard. The exhausted men were 
fighting feebly against the ever-piling drifts and trying 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 


277 


to keep them down^ but the struggle could not have 
lasted much longer, and that night would have seen them 
buried until the suns of another spring should disclose 
their grave. 

“ It is like a dream of Paradise,” remarked the gen- 
eral some two hours later, as warmed and comforted and 
dryly clad he toasted himself before a roaring fire in the 
living room of Castle Cave. This room was cheery with 
many candles, and its rocky walls were tapestried with 
furs. Pur rugs were under foot, while comfortable 
chairs and divans invited lounging. There were shelves 
of books, a number of late magazines, pictures and 
potted ferns. At one side stood a table draped with 
snowy linen, set for a meal with silver, glass, and china. 
Prom a kitchen not far remote came the appetizing odors 
of cooking, while in and out of the room where the gen- 
eral sat flitted a young girl good to look upon, and 
gowned as though she were about to preside at a dinner 
table in St. Louis or any other city where American 
girls are to be found. 

Hear the fireplace stood two men, also dressed for 
dinner according to the conventions of civilization. 
They were of nearly equal height, but the taller, who 
also was the elder, wore a silk cap and d beard in which 
was an occasional thread of silver, while the other was 
a smooth-faced lad, bronzed, curly headed, and stalwart. 

At the expiration of another two hours the general 
said : Mr. Knighton, this has been one of the happiest. 


278 


THE OUTCAST WARRIOR 


as it will ever be the most memorable, evenings of my 
life. Next to Almighty God I have to thank yon and 
this fine young chap for being permitted to enjoy it. 
Por its actual pleasure I think I am most deeply in- 
debted to your charming daughter. Never have I been 
talked to more intelligently nor more interestingly, and 
as I understand that you are thinking of sending her to 
some Eastern institution of learning, I want to beg you 

to let her go to S College and become a roommate 

with my daughter, who will enter there next year.” 

“ What do you say, little daughter ? ” asked Mr. 
Knighton. 

Papa, I should love it above everything I can 
imagine.” 

Then, sir,” replied the fond father, turning to the 
general, I suppose it must be as you suggest, for as 
yet I never have been able to find anything I could deny 
my blue-eyed girl.” 

The storm raged for three days longer, and when it 
finally ended, “ Kent ” Wester took his dear friend. 

General H ^ whom he had discovered to be one of 

the finest of men, to Fort Totten in his five-dog cariole. 
He was to return the day after their arival with horses 
for the soldiers who had been left behind. The general 
himself came out to see him start, and as he held the 
lad’s hand in bidding him farewell he asked: 

“ Kenton, what is your dearest wish in life ? ” 

“ To go to West Point, sir,” was the prompt reply. 


A FRIEND FROM A SNOW BANK 


279 


So your fatlier intimated, and now I tell yon, as I 
promised him, that your appointment to West Point 
shall be made out, signed, and forwarded to you before 
this winter’s snow has left the ground. And, my dear 
boy, I want you always to remember that, though you 
will make many friends in your new life, you will never 
gain one truer or more devoted to your interests than 
the purple-faced old general whom you pulled out of a 
snow bank. God bless you ! Good-by.” 


( 1 ) 


THE END 


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